Conversations and Reckonings
Disclaimer: all known and recognisable characters, place names etc. are the property of Square Enix, all unknown and unrecognisable characters, places etc. are mine. I make no money from this endeavour of fiction.
A/N: Hello…..if you've read this 'conversations' series before, welcome back…if you haven't…this might not make much sense, but as a brief recap here goes, through a series of misadventures Balthier and Ashe came to be married and produced twins, Halina Amalia and Heios Demen Dalmasca…….unfortunately there is no such thing as a happy ending for this dysfunctional family!
Prologue: Thief in the Keep; your Gil or your life
She crept through the fortress Keep of Nalbina like a ghost in silver slippers with a surety of purpose that was both single-minded and complete. In her hand she clutched a looped coil of rope pilfered from the soldiers barracks.
Reaching her intended goal she pressed up against the wall near the half open door and peeked around the corner to peer into the room beyond. Her heart pounded like a heavy bell in the cage of her ribs.
The diffuse yellow light of the shaded crystal lamp quivered and faded as a shadow moved across the half open door. Immediately she pulled back in fright and held her breath.
Through the crack in the door she watched the tall, lean man pause before the small window in the circle tower room. He held a sheaf of papers before his face and she watched him mutter softly to himself and rub a hand over his eyes tiredly before pulling on a slender pair of half-spectacles that hung from a chain around his neck.
She savagely bit down on her lip in anticipation; her target in her sights, the moment to spring almost upon her.
She watched the man groan in annoyance over something or other and irritably toss the papers down on the desk by the window before turning fully around to face the door, arms stretched above his head and elbows bent as he yawned.
She tried to duck away from the door but it was too late he saw her immediately. She watched his eyes widen fractionally as he espied her and then his mouth curl up in a slight smile, lips parting to speak.
She did not give him the chance to speak, however and instead pushed open the door with all her strength leapt into the threshold, brandishing her stolen rope and the wooden training sword she had 'borrowed' from her brother and yelled at the top of her lungs:
'Your Gil or your life, this is a raid!'
The man before her simply looked at her, the smile playing about his lips, 'I see,' he murmured dryly, 'You are aware, young lady, that this is far past your bedtime?'
Sensing that she was fast losing the advantage of surprise her careful sneaking had afforded her Halina (Hallie) Amalia Dalmasca, crown Princess of the Kingdom of Dalmasca-Nabradia, drew in a big breath of air, puffed out her chest and rested her clenched fists against her hips in her best approximation of a classic pirate stance.
'A sky pirate does not have a bedtime; I laugh in the face of bedtime.'
The man before her, who was in fact the single most important man in Hallie's life, fought valiantly to keep from laughing as he removed the half-spectacles from his long, sharp nose (which he had bequeathed to Hallie and her twin brother Heios) and strolled over to the book case set into the wall behind the desk.
'Very well, young lady, how much Gil will it set me back to see you safe abed, hmm?'
Hallie padded into the room and over to her father while she gave this question the serious consideration it deserved. 'Well for starters a bedtime story and not the one about Raithwall, I find that boring – tell me about the time you hi-jacked the Rozzarian Imperial cruiser over the Embolata Lake.'
Her father winced slightly, 'Yes that is a better story, unfortunately your mother is of the opinion that such stories are inappropriate for you and your brother to hear.'
Hallie considered this, ferreting out what her father was saying and what he wasn't saying on the off chance she could still get what she wanted (this was the sort of thing sky pirates did, after all, mother was often accusing father of being manipulative and saying one thing while meaning another).
'Yes, but mother is not here, father, and she only said that because Heios became upset and had bad dreams. I won't have bad dreams.'
Her father ran one faintly burn-scarred hand over the spines of the books, 'Yes, that's part of the problem.' He murmured amusedly reaching down with his free hand to stroke her hair. Hallie moved closer to her father's side, although tall for her four years, her head barely reached her father's mid thigh.
'So, we have reached an impasse on the first of your demands, Princess sky pirate, do you have a counter proposal?'
Hallie nodded vigorously, 'What were you doing before I ambushed you, father?'
A sky pirate always had more than one reason for doing anything, the treasure of a story mother would not like father telling was only one possible boon, discovering what father was up to with all those pieces of paper and stylus and odds and ends on his desk was much more valuable.
Her father shook his head distractedly, 'Nothing productive, unfortunately, banging my head against a metaphorical brick wall, I dare say.'
Her father dropped dilatorily into his large, leather upholstered wing-back chair that always reminded Hallie of a dark eagle with wings curving up and around to enfold her father.
'Up you come, young lady, as you are here you may as well help your father think, as I seem incapable of doing so sensibly unaided.'
Hallie grinned and, discarding the rope and toy sword she had no need for, and clambered up into her father's lap. She kicked her legs contentedly and inhaled the familiar, much loved, scent of her father. He always smelled of starched white cotton, glossair oil, books and ink. As far as Hallie was concerned it was the scent of happiness.
For a little while Hallie was content to simply snuggle her head against her father's chest and listen to him breathing and the ticking of the collection of carriage clocks counting down time on the mantle above the fire place.
Her father stroked his fingers through her short, feathery, ashy hair. Looking up into his face above her Hallie observed the distraction of his thoughts, the crease of his brows almost meeting over the bridge of his nose. With his free hand her father tapped out a disparate medley on the arm of the chair with his long fingers.
Hallie decided that while she may not have gained a 'bad' story from her father about his adventures in that strange and unfathomable time that existed before Hallie had been born, before her father was her father, she had at least won for herself a perfect moment, just her and her father in his 'special' study.
After an unknown amount of time, when the soft peacefulness of the ticking clocks and her father's steady breathing had almost lulled her to sleep, Hallie was stirred by her father rousing himself in the chair.
'Come now, young lady, your mother will have my hide if she finds out I've let you stay up long past your bedtime. Apparently she is tired of always taking the role of disciplinarian while I spoil you both rotten.'
Hallie did not offer any protest when her father arranged her arms around his neck and lifted her up to carry her out of the study and back through the keep to the tower where Heios slept and her own room remained empty, her bed unused.
'I am quite happy if you want to keep spoiling me rotten father, I'm sure Heios doesn't mind either.' She mumbled sleepily.
'Oh, no doubt,' Her father agreed, laughter a rich undercurrent in his voice, 'but your mother is not, and one petulant royal with a natural inclination to expect everything her own way, is more than enough for one man to handle.'
Hallie tried to puzzle out what he meant by this. Her tutors were always saying how very advanced she and Heios were in their studies, especially for their tender years, but sometimes the words, actions, and manners of adults remained a closed book to Hallie, a book written in a language she did not understand and sealed with a magick key.
Held securely in her father's capable arms, her head lolling contentedly against his shoulder, Hallie absently reached out to touch the dangling pearl-drop that hung from her father's torn right ear.
Her father sighed but did not bother at this late hour to tell Hallie to leave his ear alone and instead simply continued through the quiet keep; down one spiral staircase and one dim-lit, tapestry draped, corridor and up another spiral stair.
They were almost back to the tower wing of the Nalbina Keep that served as she and her brother's private demesne when her father drew to a halt and, muscles tensing, lowered Hallie to the ground, eyes narrowed and searching the shadows for something Hallie could not see.
Without a word her father crouched before a sleepy Hallie (and in the guise of the action pulled free a large hunting knife from his boot). Before Hallie could do more than rub at her sleep heavy eyes with a balled fist, her father pressed one finger (the tip of which was slightly stained with ink) against her lips. Her father's dark eyes burned in to hers, warning her without words to remain still and silent.
Gesturing for her to wait quietly beside a suit of armour mounted against the wall and with her back pressed against a grand tapestry in cloth of silver and azure blue depicting the battle of Bur-Omisace wherein in her mother led an army of thirteen thousand ordinary men and women against the wicked Mishman Margrace, her father walked silently and swiftly around the corner and disappeared into the shadows beyond.
Seconds ticked by in which time Hallie bit her lip until it bled and wished that she had not left her brother's toy sword in the study with the rope and all her father's papers.
Where was father?
Was something wrong; what about Heios and Nanny Sorbet and Sister Minty?
Hallie found her heart was hammering now for completely different reasons that it had when she had crouched before her father's study door waiting to pounce. Tears prickled her eyes and Hallie sniffed hard then cringed when it seemed to her that the sound was far too loud.
'Father?'
Poking her head around the legs of the huge coat of arms, Hallie whispered into the darkness of the Keep, which had seemed so comforting before and was now anything but.
She jumped when she thought she heard a noise, the sound of cloth scraping against the polished stone of the keep floor. She thought she heard a sharp indrawn breath and before she knew it Hallie had dashed from her hiding place and was halfway down the corridor, tears flying from her eyes.
'Father?'
Eyes blinded by tears of panic and shaking in the cold draught from the old masonry of the Keep that the tapestries did not quite prevent from whistling through the corridors, Hallie skidded to a halt abruptly.
'Hallie, go back,' her father snapped off the words, sharp and fierce, 'get up to the tower and wake Nanny Sorbet, bring her here. Go now.'
But Hallie barely heard her father. All her attention was taken up by the sight before her. Her father, white faced, hard eyed, crouched beside, and half supporting, the body of a woman Hallie knew very well indeed. A woman whose long white, gently curling, hair pooled on the floor of the corridor, the ends soaking up the liquid crimson that distilled on the floor and poured from the huge, red, open maw that had been gouged from her stomach.
Hallie could feel her lips trembling and her eyes growing impossibly wide as she stared from the horrible, bloody wound to her father. She hiccupped a sharp, shallow breath and reached out with trembling fingers towards the blood flecked, placid face of the woman bleeding all over her father's nice white shirt.
'Fran!'
Her father reached out with a blood slicked hand and slapped Hallie's reaching hand away before she could touch the wound. Hallie leapt back, startled by the sting of her father's hand that she had never felt before, fresh tears fell as her father, teeth gritted, picked up Fran's limp form in his arms and fixed Hallie with a quelling gaze.
'Hurry, quick; up the stairs to Nanny Sorbet.'
Hallie whimpered, as she caught sight behind her father of the trails of blood splotches and the kicked open door that was the real cause of the stiff breeze rushing through this corridor. She saw one of the many tapestries had been pulled from the wall and shredded as if by sharp claws, and noted that trails and tatters of brightly coloured cloth still adhered to Fran's long clawed hands.
'Father what happened?' Hallie whispered as she clasped hold of her father's belt to keep in pace with him as they dashed up the small flight of stairs that led to the door to the nursery where she and Heios, slept, played and took their lessons.
Her father shouldered open the door and gestured led the way into the room, calling for Nanny Sorbet and Sister Minty (Nanny Sorbet's daughter, deputy nanny and nursemaid to the royal children) rousing them from sleep.
'Master Balthier – kupo, but has happened?' Nanny Sorbet exclaimed as she leapt up on to the large desk her father had swept clear with one arm was now laying Fran down on.
'I don't know. I found her like this and she was already next to dead; can you do anything? My magick does not appear to be helping.'
Hallie huddled back into the corner of the play room, pressing herself in against the giant soft stuffed toy behemoth that was larger than she was and the wall. She did not know if she was still crying as she nibbled her lips and sniffed.
She did not even realise it when she wet herself for sheer fright.
She watched as her father used his big knife to carefully cut away the scraps of leather that was all that was left of Fran's clothing so that Nanny Sorbet and Sister Minty could get at the wound with spells and cleaning cloths.
Heios poked his head out of his room and padded quietly over to Hallie still dressed in his night clothes.
He did not say anything but his dark brown eyes were very wide as he looked over to the table and saw their father lean over Fran (who to the twins was much more than a mere paltry aunt could be, or just a friend of their father, but a wonderful, magickal woman, bringer of gifts and excitement, who they both loved immensely).
Neither Hallie nor Heios knew what their father did when he leaned over Fran and seemed to be breathing into her mouth, except that it must denote something terrible and horrible had happened to Fran that she would lie so still and permit such a thing to happen.
Heios took hold of Hallie's hands and squeezed them very tightly. Hallie shuddered as she sucked in a shaky breath of pure fear.
'Damn you Fran, don't you dare die on me,' their father's voice, furious and torn with grief, made them both flinch and Hallie almost groaned with a purity of terror that she had never felt before.
Both children watched as magicks crackled and swirled, cast by both Moogles and even their father whose distain for magick was well known to both Hallie and Heios. There was a moment of fraught silence broken only by the hiccupping pleading of two very young children.
'Please, Fran, please Fran, please don't die.'
The woman on the desk spine bowed, her head tipping back and her body lifting from the desk as the magick's took affect and she seemingly came back from the dead. Their father caught Fran's body in his arms and carefully lowered her down onto the desk.
Hallie and Heios, pulled forward by the palpable magnetism of their father's distress, hurried towards the table and clustered against him.
Almost unconsciously her father reached out with his shaking free hand not cupping Fran's head, resting it briefly upon Hallie's head inadvertently streaking her silky cap of ash pale hair with Fran's blood as he caressed her.
Fran's red eyes were open and they rolled up to meet Hallie's father's worried gaze, she reached limply towards him with one hand as Nanny Sorbet and Sister Minty began treating and binding the magickally sealed wound to her stomach.
'…….Balthier, Balfonheim, a warning I bring…..calamity befalls and the port burns…..the Phoenix rises from the ashes…..you know to where it flies.'
Hallie, pressed so tightly against her father's leg that the soft, chubby skin of her cheek was indented with the seam of his trousers, jumped in shock to hear the harsh crashing oath that her father released to rend the air.
'Gods damn it – they've done it then, the pirates have gone to war.'