Ark of the Nethirym
Prologue
Vaan sat on empty dock crates watching his ship out of the corner of his eye--his attention flitting between the maps he was supposed to be studying, the Bangaa loading stores into his airship, and the team of Moogles starting the fuel-up.
He sighed and rubbed at the small frown starting to crease his brow. Non-crew sniffing around the Galbana just plain made him nervous. It hadn't been all that long ago that Ashe finally saw fit to push through paperwork to settle an official deed on the ship--so that Vaan could legally port her throughout the continents. It hadn't escaped his notice that the cost had been nothing short of owing his wings to the grace of a woman who had no problems using his ship as leverage for the occasional service.
Vaan snorted at himself. A sky pirate on a leash
The situation left a bad taste in his mouth, something akin to what he'd felt long ago during the Archadian occupation when living in Rabanastre had meant needing permission to walk the very streets he'd been born to. It rubbed the wrong way, and it rubbed especially bad considering what that the woman holding the leash was someone he'd helped put in power. Someone he'd once thought was above using people like that. It was quite probably the reason he was so sensitive about anyone laying hands on his pride and joy. To Ashe, the Galbana was nothing more than a bargaining chip. To Vaan the Galbana was more than a mere airship. She was the culmination of most of his wildest dreams. Strings attached or not, she was proof positive that fortune favored the desperate.
Vaan was about to give up all pretense of trying to study the maps when he was rescued from admitting defeat by Penelo--arriving with a small crate in her arms. She seemed to change gears momentarily, tilting her head and eyeing him critically. She followed his gaze skipping around the work crews again and plunked down the crate--knotting her fists on her hips. "Vaan, they aren't here to peel off any hull plates and they aren't here to steal the skystone." Her voice held just a hint of reproach beneath the warm amusement and teasing smile.
Vaan just chuckled and nodded to her, trying to belay any further lecture in the works. There wasn't any use denying his behavior. No small wonder that Penelo was starting to get tired of him being so maniacally possessive of his ship. He just couldn't seem to stop.
Maybe it was because of Ashe's hold over him. Or maybe it was because he'd liberated the ship as a derelict, in not too un-similar a way as Balthier had the Strahl. Whatever the reason, he needed to get over himself. Balthier would have laughed at him and insisted that anyone who feared losing something, never really had it to begin with.
Balthier...
It had been nearly two years since the defeat of Vayne--and a full year more since the infamous pirating duo had reclaimed their Strahl. They'd snuck into the hanger, took back the ship, and left behind the Queen's ransomed wedding band along with an enormous skystone. And of course, they'd left the very smallest clue as to where the two of them were off to next.
That's perhaps what had started it all. The clue.
Vaan had been alternately elated and lost. It was like winning the war all over again to know his friends were alive, against all hope. Or rather, all hope but his. He hadn't ever really given up on them. But when the joy of knowing they'd survived the Bahamut settled, Vaan's heart still ached. The message left behind with the skystone had been like an invitation to play. Get a ship and use the stone. Come join us... But that was long ago and over time Vaan had begun to feel a strange sort of hole nagging him from within.
That, more than anything, drove Vaan these days. More than the teasing clue, more than the need to know they were truly alright, more than the deep, deep desire to lay eyes (and maybe hands) on Balthier again--he was obsessed with filling that nameless ache inside that was swallowing his life. Maybe he did need to actually see Balthier and Fran in the flesh to really accept that they'd survived. But then Vaan wondered why the greatest heartache was that they'd taken the Strahl without at least seeing him and Penelo. Why had they run out on him? A dark, ungenerous place within Vaan reasoned that almost everyone he'd ever cared about left him at some point, in some way. Maybe they were just fated to leave him too.
Some days Vaan had to grab onto to Penelo to prove to himself that she was still there with him.
Even so, Vaan was trying to find them. He'd acquired the Galbana, installed the amazingly powerful, Jagd resistant skystone they'd been left(and wouldn't he love the tale of that) and gone after his friends.
Miles charted on the Galbana's flight recorder were all Vaan had to show for it. He'd been from one end of each of the known continents to the other and news of the Strahl and her crew was like water in a desert--closely held and guarded by the privileged. To Vaan's great annoyance, his and Penelo's friendships with Royalty had done surprisingly little to open the avenue of underground intelligence. Larsa, Ashe, the Marquis and even Al Cid had all regretfully informed them that any rumors of the Strahl abroad were impossible to verify. There apparently were some doors that even helping save the world didn't grease.
So Vaan had taken commissions from the Queen, reluctantly and robbed a few mid dynasty burials for the treasure. He'd transported cargo for different, questionable clients (just enough to develop and maintain his reputation as a sky pirate), and gone on a few of the more notable hunts. And all the while he begged and bribed for every half spun hint of where their friends might have gone.
Every flight out was an opportunity to search. But they weren't gaining any ground. It was worse than chasing ghosts. Vaan had done that before, and at least he'd walked away with something tangible to show for it. Hunting for the Strahl was less like searching for the 'missing' and becoming more and more like searching for the 'never was'.
Vaan hadn't realized he was crushing the folded maps in his fists until Penelo laid a hand over his, squeezing gently. Surprised, he looked up and caught her eyes, full of sisterly warmth and sympathetic understanding. He averted his gaze quickly, and after a moment she sighed and pulled away. It'd always been confusing to him that Penelo seemed set on seeing right through him. Worse yet was how annoyingly good she was at it. But Vaan wasn't one to be pitied. His young man's pride was tetchy at the best of times. So he shrugged off Penelo's concern, literally, and adopted a cocky grin, tossing the crumpled maps to her as he jumped off the dock crates with what he deemed was properly piratical enthusiasm--confident swagger included.
"C'mon Penelo," he waved to her as he headed for the Galbana. "The Moogles are done fueling her up and we've got a date with an informant in Balfonheim."
Penelo looked from Vaan to the crate, and then back at Vaan's retreating backside. "So much for chivalry! This crate is heavy!" She huffed her blond bangs out of her face and shook her head in mock disgust. But she couldn't resist smiling at her partner's antics--even knowing it for the deflective performance it was.
Sliding the crumpled maps into her belt, Penelo reached for the crate of fresh maruba fruit knowing they'd make Vaan squeal like a child when it was time to stop for their next meal.
_______________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
Penelo wasn't superstitious. But she was a woman--and as such she was sure she listened to her instincts more than the average man. So it bothered her that said instincts were nearly screaming at her. Something was really off with their so called informant lurking before them. Tamaraide by name, if that could be believed. The creature--she didn't know what else to classify it--was enormous and stooped, cloaked in layer upon layer of worn fabrics until its shape was only hinted at. Even up close Penelo was beyond guessing what race it was, and that was saying something.
This was trouble, she could smell it. Or maybe that was just the odor rolling off the creature. It was like the stench off a charnel house under a hot sun. It was like Nabudis. The reek of corrupted flesh.
It spoke again and Penelo cringed, contemplating that maybe her misgivings stemmed from the creature's voice. It rasped out in razor thin noises, like a hissing tea kettle full of broken glass. And just like a hundred other informants had in the past, it went on and on about important news of Balthier and Fran--or as the creature put it, 'The errant Archadian pirate and his Viera witch'. Unfortunately, Penelo knew from experience there wasn't any better lure to make Vaan ignore what little common sense he possessed.
The exchange was, barring the extreme oddness of the creature, just what she'd come to expect. The sibilant voice leaking out from under the ragged hood still hadn't given them any concrete news yet. That wouldn't come until it got around to asking more for the information than they were willing to pay. Tamaraide swore again that not only did it know right where the Strahl was currently docked, but also what business had been keeping Balthier and Fran secreted away so long. She wished it would just demand it's price and be done with it.
Penelo wanted to give voice to the creeping dread in her gut. She was nearly aching to. This thing was unnatural--it had to be. But the almost manic light in Vaan's eyes as he listened convinced her it wouldn't matter if she did protest at this point. Minutes passed and Penelo had long given up all pretense and was covering her nose with a kerchief, just so her eyes didn't water. Vaan was either a lot stronger of constitution, or he was too set on their negotiations to care about the reek. And then Tamaraide put the cards on the table. The creature insisted they go on a retrieval job as pre-payment for the information.
Vaan at least offered other things first. Penelo knew they had plenty of coin for their simple tastes, a fair amount of treasure too, even a couple of arcane rarities gathered from the last tomb raid. But the creature didn't want any of it. Whatever was being retrieved was worth more than all of it. A sobering thought.
Even so, Penelo knew Vaan wouldn't say no. She wanted to shake him and yell at him until he agreed with her that this was the worst idea ever, in all the history of bad ideas. But Vaan had proven before he would go to any length to get a piece of news.
Unfortunately, he didn't disappoint.
He haggled for a bare moment more before accepting the terms--nothing but a show of pretense. And just as they were to shake on the deal, something that frankly made Penelo want to gag, the creature instead slapped an old map and a strange device it called 'the key' roughly into Vaan's hands.
Vaan had barely started to ask what the 'key' was actually for when the creature was already walking away with a rapid, boneless grace that denied its bulk. Watching their would-be informant veritably melt into the colorful crowd of the port city--Penelo fervently hoped they didn't live to regret taking this misadventure on.
Then a chill of apprehension crawled up her spine and Penelo immediately changed her mind. She desperately, desperately hoped they lived, even if they did regret going forward with this.
Vaan threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight. "Thank you for not stopping me," he whispered earnestly. There was something odd and grave in his voice that scared her even more than Tamaraide had.
Penelo couldn't summon a smile for him, it all just felt too wrong. Instead she elbowed her way out of his grasp. "You own me lunch before we head out. That is, if I can stomach food after the way that thing smelled."
.........................................................................
Don't worry! Our leading man shows up in the next chapter! Can't have Vaan pining indefinitely. Though he really doesn't realize he's pining, as yet.