Hello out there

This is my first attempt at writing on here. I know there are a few other novelizations and you may be groaning as you see this … but I wanted to tell the story my way.

Hope you enjoy! I'm not entirely sure myself where this is going.

Reviews, love, and hate mail always welcome.

The emptiness rang in his ears as the sound of the Strahl's engines faded away and they settled into the private airship hanger of one Rhett Neiman. Balthier rather hated the dry sounding name, but it ensured that they would not be bothered; who would come looking for someone so boring as to be named Rhett Neiman? He leaned back in his chair and surveyed his lovely partner, who was already intently going over the plans for tonight. Her ruby eyes scanned the charts and maps, ears flickering ever so slightly in concentration.

"There is no need dearest," he drawled. "This shall be one of our easiest jobs yet. Everything is set in place."

She afforded him a halting glance before returning to her map. "I am not so convinced that breaking into a palace should ever be referred to as 'easy.'"

"Fran, please."

She didn't even bother to glance up for that one.

Balthier grinned, leaning even further back in his chair and contemplating a nap.

She gazed out across the endless ocean, feet buried in the soft, warm white sand, salt laden breeze ruffling her long fine hair. She dared to venture a little into the water, wetting the hems of her luxurious white sun dress. It was beautiful. But she could not stay. Not after what she had learned. Not knowing who she was and what she was capable of. Not when she posed such a threat to all those she knew and loved. Not when she could be used for such ends.

She sighed, gazing out across the ocean one last time, at the white puffs of clouds reflected in it and the tall sails of distant ships slowly making their way toward harbor. She had only come to say goodbye, but he had not been home. It was for the best, she supposed. Her father would be in too grave a danger if they knew she had come to see him, and her mother's home was far too close to those who sought her. She had to run. Reluctantly she climbed out of the water and retrieved her pack from under the lone tree on the shore. With one final glance at the grand seaside mansion she shouldered her pack and headed for the grasslands on the edge of town, praying that there was refuge beyond them.

Vaan looked toward the palace, glittering like a star as the last rays of sun faded behind it. He was going to do it. Now was the perfect time, now that everyone was occupied with the fete. Quietly he slipped down the stairs into Lowtown and made his way to the sewers that would lead him to the palace. He tried to ignore the pangs of guilt as he made his way through the slimy, foul smelling water. He didn't mean to break his promise, and he figured Penelo would never find out anyways, at least not until it was all over and by that time he hoped he would have a good deal of treasure and a decent pile of gil to impress her with. With that kind of persuasion she would have to forgive him, right?

He tried to convince himself of this as he found his way into the trapdoor into the palace cellar. He slipped in to blend with the rest of the crowd, biding his time pretending to be a servant until he could find the right moment. And then he would take back what was rightfully Dalmasca's.

He had lost track of the days. In the vast immovable darkness there was no need for such things as days. He clung to life only on the feeble hope that Dalmasca would yet live, that she would rise above her chains. If only he could rise above his. Captain Basch fon Ronsenberg, once great and admired knight, now a skeleton of a prisoner is a cage.

The supposed late Princess Ashelia b'nargin Dalmasca waited in the shadows with her loyal cortege. It was despicable, really, for a princess to be hiding in a sewer. But she would do whatever was necessary to save her country. It was bad enough that Archadia had taken possession of her throne, but now the lowly despot Vayne was living in her palace, holding a fete there in his own honor while the people of Rabanastre starved and lived in hovels. She would stand for it no longer. Dalmasca would no longer be the plaything of an evil empire. It would end, tonight. She would see to it.