This one will probably be a little creepier than with When Pirate and Pirate Meet, because I felt that while Curse of the Black Pearl was relatively light hearted, At World's End was much darker. I am already fired up to do the next chapter, but I will have to put out another chapter in each of my other fanfictions, Protecting Harry Potter and The Fellowship of the Rings plus Sai before I do so…
This first chapter is dedicated to ElTangoDeRoxanne, who was my most fervent supporter last time, so I hope you enjoy this one just as much.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII or Pirates of the Caribbean
Balthier dreamed; an occurrence odd in itself. Being undead, he had no need for sleep, but he could relax into a state near slumber. He had not dreamed for several months now. He lay in the cockpit of his ship, the Strahl, slumped over the control panel. Fran stood next to him, but did not disturb him, not even to move him to his bunk, for fear that she might draw him from his welcome respite from the torment of day to day living.
Only in his sleep did Balthier look vulnerable.
They were silent as they were marched to the gallows. Some cried, some shouted wordlessly, but it was all the same in the end. The pile of boots in the courtyard grew; a child's buckled shoes were thrown onto the stack.
Then he could hear them, the souls of the dead, saying words that whispered on the cold wind that stung his face.
Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…
The dream faded into darkness, but he still didn't wake. The darkness transformed into a dungeon, and Balthier was locked inside.
Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades… a voice sighed to him in from the depths of the shadows. In his dreamscape, Balthier whipped around to face the barren confines of his prison.
"Who calls me by that name?" he cried into the emptiness.
Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…
Balthier shook his head, backing into a corner, hand whipping up to grab a gun that was not there.
"Who's there?" he called again wildly, eyes darting around the cell.
I have need of your services.
A shadowed figure stood on the other side of the door, looking in at him. Balthier watched it warily.
"Who are you? How do you know that name?"
Before me, all your pretexts are laid bare, Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades…
He realized that he was a skeleton, but no moonlight shone upon his skin. Balthier flung himself at the bars, rattling them, his hand shooting out to grasp at the shadow's throat. His groping fingers met thin air.
Look at what you have become and are becoming, Ffamran. You are a trapped creature, caged in your own flesh. The Mist does not react favorably to your… condition. The shadow warped, became a reflection of himself.
His flesh colored face leered back at him, baring sharpened teeth that no Hume should have. His own familiar golden eyes flashed once, turning a bestial shade of yellow with slit pupils, before dampening back to their normal hue. The reflection Balthier smirked again, showing off the sharp teeth that remained the same, before vanishing.
Balthier shrank back from the bars, clutching his head in his hands.
"I'm becoming a monster," he whispered in horror.
Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…
"Shut up!" Balthier screamed at nobody. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
I have need of your services. The shadow was back at the door.
Balthier sobbed.
Some are dead and some are alive… others sail on the sea… a haunting voice drifted through the dungeon.
"What do you want?" he moaned, looking up at the shadow.
…With keys to the cage, and the devil to pay… The voice of Elizabeth Swann.
"Why do you torment me with voices from my past?" Balthier staggered to his feet, clutching the bars of his prison.
I have need of your services.
"Enough. I will hear your terms."
Jack Sparrow is dead, and with him, my hopes of returning home. You know of whom I speak.
"Jack… dead?" Balthier could not believe what he heard.
I need you to guide them to him. I fear I have been betrayed.
"I don't even know where he is."
You will find out.
"What is in it for me?"
Always you think that. Set me free, let me go home, and I shall set you free in turn. The shadow reached out and touched his heart.
With a gasp, he realized that it beat strong under the shadow's grip.
"You'll lift the curse if I return to Jack's world and complete your task? Will I return once I am done?"
Yes. Prepare yourself, Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades… we will meet again tomorrow. Don't think you will be going alone this time.. The dungeon was lit with blinding white light, and the shadow faded. Elizabeth's voice still sang sweetly.
Yo ho… haul together, hoist the colors high…
Heave ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…
"What bothers you, Balthier?" Fran followed him from the tiny room that stored their weaponry back to the cockpit, where he opened a locker. He jumped to avoid getting pummeled by the deluge of items that dropped onto the floor. A few stray tufts of Phoenix Down drifted down to rest on top, along with a metallic blue bracelet. Balthier swiped it from the pile, jamming it onto his wrist.
"That's where that went! I was wondering about that…" he trailed off , and dumped a pile of Dark shot and a few rounds of Mud shot into his side pouch. Ethers and a few potions went in the other. When he realized Fran was blocking the doorway, he froze.
"Tell me what you are about to do that involves Deathbringer, Fomalhaut, and Danjuro, and then I shall move." she said threateningly, narrowing her crimson eyes. Balthier quailed before her stern gaze, and recounted his dream.
"The shadow asked you to return to that world?" she asked, her face inscrutable, but Balthier watched her ears quiver.
"Yes, and it said I would not be alone. That can only mean that you're going with me!" Balthier said excitably. Fran sighed, knowing better than to try to argue him out of doing anything when he got like this, and unbarred the way to the rest of the ship. She did not even jump when he passed under a beam of moonlight shining down from a sky light, a creak signifying his brief change. She was more disturbed by his smile: she caught a flash of sharp teeth. Teeth meant to rip into flesh.
"Then I shall prepare myself suitably." she walked into their "armory", selecting her best bow (the Perseus Bow because they were trying to hold onto enough money long enough to buy her a Sagittarius), and strapping a few quivers of Lightning arrows to her back. "I assume we are traveling light?" she asked. He nodded, but frowned when she went into the kitchen.
"Fran? What are you doing?" Balthier asked, peering into the gloom. He was slightly disturbed when his eyes could penetrate the darkness with little trouble.
I am becoming a monster. In his reflection on a steel cabinet, his eyes glinted cold yellow, fading when he flicked on the kitchen light. Like a nocturnal predator.
It was clear Fran could see what was happening to him as she emerged with a few ration sacks, worry written on her face. She put the sacks on the table and drew him into her arms.
"I worry about you, Balthier." she murmured into his hair. He nodded, nuzzling his face deeper into her shoulder. Fran could feel his cold skin even through her black leather clothing. Ever since he had returned from his adventure in the place called the Caribbean, he had gotten into the habit of drinking in her body heat whenever given the opportunity. Consistently having skin that felt cold as ice had its drawbacks whenever he had to shake hands— at a party in Balfonheim, Balthier had nearly scalded his hands off trying to retain enough heat to last through the introductions.
"I know you worry about me. I worry about me." he mumbled, his voice muffled by her shoulder, but Fran heard him clearly with her Viera's ears. Balthier looked up into her eyes.
"Don't worry. When this is all over, I promise I will be right as rain." he said, placing a hand over his heart. "I always keep my promises."
"I am glad for that." Fran released him, and he took a reluctant step back. She picked up the ration packs, slinging them over her shoulder. "Now, how are we going to get there?" she asked. Balthier dropped his gaze and turned away, heading back to the room they shared.
"I don't know. I'm just going to go lie down a bit. Maybe something will come to me." he said.
"I will come with you." Fran said.
They ended up curled together on the bottom bunk bed, the ration sacks and Fran's bow sandwiched between them. Fran had lain awake for a while, tracing the patterns on the front of Balthier's vest. He wore a black vest with silver whorls and intricate swirls today. Eventually, she fell asleep, her breathe deep and even. It smelled of flowers and berries as it washed over Balthier's face, and he inhaled deeply. The edge of her bow was digging into his thigh, and he shifted slightly to rid himself of the annoyance. Fran's breathe hitched, and she opened her eyes, blinking somnolently.
"Sleep, Balthier." She murmured, casting the spell. He smiled at her gratefully, and closed his eyes.
His dreamscape was dark, as it always was, but this time, a figure of pure light stood next to him. He recognized the outline— how many people had rabbit ears atop their heads? Fran.
At their feet, a watery path sprang into being, reflecting stars that did not exist in the void. Balthier took an exploratory step. The path rippled, but he remained supported above it. He turned back to Fran's white silhouette, gesturing for her to follow, which she did. If she had said anything, he did not hear it.
They walked for what felt like ages, the path winding through the darkness, stars twinkling beneath their feet. The only sound was the hollow echo of his footsteps. Suddenly the path stopped. Balthier squinted, tapping his new ability to see in the dark, and realized the path hadn't ended.
The shadow stood before them, almost invisible in the darkness of his dreamscape.
"Let us pass." Balthier said. "We've come to set you free."
The shadow turned away from him, drawing out a sigil in the air. The sigil glowed brilliant white, and Balthier covered his eyes, overwhelmed by the glare. Suddenly he felt a shove from behind, and tumbled through the door that appeared. When he could see again, he saw Fran's shining silhouette falling behind him.
The door faded, and Balthier sat up, coughing in the smoke that suddenly engulfed them. Fran landed next to him in a crumpled heap, back to her normal, corporeal self. She stood as soon as she touched the ground, red eyes taking in their surroundings.
It was a port of some kind, and obviously a battle was being waged. Gunshots rang out around them, and swords clanged and clashed. On the river before them, a ship was stealthily sailing away. Balthier recognized the outline of a woman on the boat: it was Elizabeth Swann. She stood with another woman, this one with matted tangled hair. It could have been Anamaria, but it didn't seem right.
"I think that is the ship we have to catch." Balthier said to Fran, before sprinting to the end of the pier.
"They are trying to leave unseen. It would be best if we got their attention in as unobtrusively as possible." Fran observed.
Balthier searched the ground, and found a tiny pebble.
"How about this?" he asked, tossing it toward the boat. As luck would have it, he managed to hit Elizabeth square in the back of the head. She spun, rubbing her head, a gun whipping out of nowhere, eyes searching the smoke for the perpetrator. When she spotted Balthier, who waved at her cheerfully, her jaw dropped.
"Come on." Balthier dove off the dock, Fran following him, and swam to the ship. Elizabeth and the other woman helped them aboard.
"I can't believe it! It's really you!" she whispered, flinging herself into his arms. Balthier awkwardly patted her back, his face coloring slightly in the presence of Fran, who raised an eyebrow and cocked her head.
"Ah, Fran! This is Elizabeth Swann, that young lady I told you I met in the Caribbean adventure." he said. "Elizabeth, please meet Fran, my one and only partner."
Fran towered over Elizabeth, and most likely would have even without her two pronged stilettos. Elizabeth's eyes were glued to Fran's ears, which moved to catch even the slightest sound.
"A pleasure." Fran said with a bow. Elizabeth jumped, remembering her manners.
"The pleasure is all mine." she replied, still watching Fran's ears. "Sorry, but are those… real? Do you mind if…?" Elizabeth's fingers twitched, revealing her intent. Do you mind if I touch them?
Balthier gulped. "Fran," he reminded her urgently. "Remember how I told you there aren't Viera here."
Fran's ear flicked slightly, but finally she deigned to swallow her pride to sate Elizabeth's curiosity. The girl ran her fingers over the soft fur and through Fran's snow white hair.
"They are real." Fran said coolly, standing back up.
"They're lovely." Elizabeth exclaimed.
"Thank you."
Balthier cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt you, ladies, but what is going on? I am pretty sure that this is not the Caribbean." he said.
Elizabeth tore her eyes away from Fran and to Balthier. "Oh, we're in Singapore at the moment, trying to flee the East India Trading Company. We are headed for World's End, and the beyond. To Davy Jones' Locker." she explained.
"We go to free Jack Sparrow." a distinct voice, heavily accented said. The woman who had stood on the deck next to Elizabeth approached them. Her face was heavily marked with kohl, and many of her teeth were stained black. There was something familiar about her, though Balthier could not place his finger on it.
"This is Tia Dalma, our guide of sorts." Elizabeth said.
"Welcome, Fran and Balt'ier." Tia Dalma said with a toothy grin. Balthier gave a courtly bow, Fran slightly stiffer, and Tia Dalma laughed grimly. "You have come far jus' to meet up wit' a few friends, hm?" she said lightly. "Dere is more in fer you than you know."
Fran's left ear swiveled toward the ship cabin. She could hear the noise of stomping feet coming onto the deck. The footsteps had an air of authority.
"Balthier, someone comes." she warned him in Vieran. He nodded, turning toward the direction she indicated, when a gunshot rang out. A bullet caught him right in the forehead, and he slumped to the deck, his eyes wide and staring vacantly. Elizabeth gave a little shriek, and Tia Dalma whirled, a growl lifting her upper lip. Fran caught him before he injured himself on the paraphernalia strewn on the floor, her eyes vengefully seeking for the one who had shot her Balthier. She wasn't particularly worried about him, as sure enough, after a time Balthier groaned and doubled over, holding a hand to the healing bullet hole.
"I hate being shot." he mumbled. "Who did that?" he looked around, and spotted the figure, bearing a smoking pistol. He recognized Hector Barbossa immediately, his eyes widening and hate flooding into them. They flashed yellow as his hand whipped up to Fomalhaut, taking aim with lightning speed. Tia Dalma was between them before he could fire.
"Stop!" she commanded, pushing down the gun barrel. "You would fire on your aid, Barbossa?" she asked the captain.
Barbossa shoved his pistol back into his belt and strode down to meet them. Grudgingly, Balthier replaced Fomalhaut on his back.
"Ar, I suppose I should be offerin' an apology then." Barbossa said, holding his hand out to shake Balthier's. Glaring at him, Balthier shook the proffered appendage. Barbossa smiled knowingly.
"Yer hands are cold. You went back for the curse, didn't you." he said.
"For a good reason." Balthier retorted, his hand dropping to Deathbringer. "How are you still here? Last I saw you, you were a bloody smear on the floor of Isla de Muerta, taking your last breathe."
"Courtesy of milady Tia Dalma here." Barbossa smirked, ignoring the dirty look the voodoo woman shot him.
"Why are you back?" Balthier said, his voice shaking with ill contained rage.
"They needed someone who's been to the Gates o' Death an' back to guide 'em to World's End." the pirate said smugly. "We be a-goin' to retrieve Jack an' his piece of Eight out of Davy Jones Locker, a place of eternal torment for the body an' soul."
He eyed Fran. "Is yer bunny girl up for it?"
"I would be nowhere without Fran." Balthier said coldly, turning his back on Barbossa and stalking to the front of the ship. Elizabeth and Fran followed.
"Is he the one who originally did that to you?" Fran asked, referring to the curse. Balthier played with his bracelets absently, listening to the quiet tinkle as they clacked together.
"Yes." he replied, looking over the waves. "But if he hadn't, I would not have found my way back to you, so I guess I owe him that."
Fran leaned against the gunwale, watching him.
"The curse is warping you into something else. Something not really Hume anymore." she said quietly.
"The shadow said it had to do with the Mist reacting to the foreign magic." Balthier replied, giving his recently recovered blue bracelet a tap to hear it ring.
"When we were in the void, I saw you as a figure of white, with darkness like flowing inside like ink." Fran put a hand over his, completely covering it. Balthier smiled.
"Ah, you were pure as an angel!" he laughed, trying to be light hearted. "Let us chat about something less gloomy now, shall we?" he said loudly, watching Elizabeth draw near.
"There is not much that is not gloomy anymore." Elizabeth replied, sitting down on a barrel.
"Where is Will? I thought you two nigh inseparable."
The girl bit her lip. "He's below deck, helping out."
"I see." Balthier examined Fomalhaut, wiping away some imaginary specks.
"Jack was eaten by the Kraken, a sea monster commanded by Davy Jones. Now the East India Trading Company threatens to rule the seas by commanding Jones, stamping out all free men who sail before a pirate flag or associate themselves with pirates." Elizabeth suddenly said. Balthier suddenly thought of his dream, the child hung at the gallows.
"That is why you and Will fled, because you knew Jack." Fran clarified, and Elizabeth nodded.
"But it is time for him to return." Tia Dalma sat, putting her tray of candles next to them. "He has a role to play in de future yet." Balthier started, not having even noticed her until she'd spoken.
Why is she so familiar? He was mentally kicking himself. Tia Dalma was still speaking.
"Beyond a sea of ice and a sea of darkness lies de edge of de world, for those who would seek it."
Balthier snorted. "From my experience, it's getting there that is easy. It's coming back that is always the hard part."
Please review.