Summary: Balthier/OC. Two years after Bahamut is destroyed, a woman with a dark past concerning Balthier finds him once more, intent on killing him. Balthier refuses to reveal why she is after him, leaving Fran to try to understand her motives.
Warning: Nothing yet.
Disclaimer: Don't own FFXII. Do own plot, OC, and anything else you don't recognize.
Well, first FFXII fic. I've had it in my head for a while, but was hesitant to post it. I have someone doing a pic of my OC, so that's why I tried to be a little sketchy with her clothing. Hopefully it won't be too long until I have an image to show you guys. I hope anyone who reads this likes it - if not, let me know! I tried hard not to make her MS, them OOC, or anything like that.
Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.
It was quiet in the streets of Bhujerba, as quiet as a mining town could be, and didn't suit Balthier at all. The sky pirate strode through the streets, Viera partner at his side, a frown marring his handsome face.
"You are restless," Fran commented, and he glanced sideways at her with a shrug.
"It's damned boring," he said conversationally, gun strapped to his back as usual.
"It is quiet," she observed calmly. "I do not think that is a bad thing, however."
"I guess not – but I'd much rather have some excitement," Balthier replied, as they wandered Travica Way, heading for Cloudborne Row and the Cloudborne tavern.
"It seems we are about to get it," the Viera told him, gazing emotionlessly before them. Balthier stopped his talking and halted, catching notice of a person in front of them. The streets were almost empty, as the sun rose high and drove people either into their homes or back to work in the mines, and the person was hard to miss. It wore a white cloak, disguising most of his features, but as the wind picked up slightly as an airship passed overhead, the cloak blew aside, revealing slim legs wearing black boots that went up to the thighs, and had low heels.
"Well, hello there," Balthier greeted the person cheerfully, showing no signs of alarm. "And who might you be?"
"You seem to be doing well," the person replied, and although the voice was low, it was obviously female.
"Another scorned lover, Balthier?" Fran asked dryly, but he shook his head.
"I don't pick the dangerous ones – you know that," he objected, but the woman laughed suddenly.
"Or you do now," she corrected, not moving at all. "That's a wise move."
"She's from Archadia," Fran said quietly, both recognizing the accent well.
"Yes, yes, I can tell that, thank you," the man replied, a bit curtly, annoyed that his day in Bhujerba – however boring – was going to be cut so short by a bounty hunter. "A name would be nice," he called, but she shook her head.
"Now, that's not necessary, Balthier," she chided him. As she said his name a chill ran through his spine, but he was still unable to recognize her. "And I'm pleased to meet you, Fran," the woman added suddenly, turning slightly toward the Viera. "I understand you've kept Balthier from ending up dead, if not out of trouble."
"A pleasure," Fran replied politely, and Balthier groaned in irritation.
"I have things to be done, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get going," he informed her. "If you have no business with us, I suggest you move along."
"If I didn't have business with you, I wouldn't be here, of course," the stranger said calmly. "It's been a long time, Balthier." With this, she removed her cloak and let it drape behind her, where it was apparently attached to the back of her cream-colored belt. Her pants were black, and rested on her hips, while her shirt was a light silver color. A snug glove, matching her boots, covered her right arm, reaching almost to her shoulder, with the sleeve of the shirt tucked into the glove. Her shirt had a loose, ruffled collar, while black corset-like laces went down the front of her shirt, as well as either side of her breasts. The left arm was bare, with the sleeve loose and angled to her wrist. No skin showed between the shirt and pants, and both the tops of the boots and glove were turned down, and a cream color as well. Silver buckles studded her belt, and silver earrings were in her hair.
"Who is this woman, Balthier?" Fran demanded, noticing a narrow scabbard on either side of her hips. Balthier remained silent, as her eyes caught his.
"It's been a long time indeed, Rayya," he managed, trying to remain calm.
Her left eye, dark green, shone in amusement, while her straight, auburn hair covered most of the right side of her face.
"Glad you remember me," she said, and Fran's eyes narrowed when she noticed the woman's lips. The right corner was fused together by what seemed to be burn scars, and slight scars edged the left side of her face. Her hair moved in the breeze, the front reaching her collarbone while the back hung to her shoulder blades, revealing a glimpse of a black eyepatch over her right eye, the straps hidden in her hair.
"You are injured," the Viera began, but Rayya turned a sharp glance on her, growing angry in a second.
"And it is thanks to Balthier I am scarred so," she hissed, pulling her hair back to reveal the rest of her face. The right side of her face was covered in bad burn scars, and Fran noticed that the area on the left side of her face vaguely resembled an arm and hand, as if someone had put their arm in front to shield her face.
"I had no idea you lived," the sky pirate told her after a long, deadly pause, and she smiled. It was a pleasant smiled, not bitter at all, which only worried him more.
"I knew that," she said, her voice almost cheerful. "I allowed you to think that, too. I realized that if you had cared at all, you wouldn't have left me, no matter what you thought. But, I had served my purpose – there was no need to put yourself out."
"I can tell you've trained well," he said casually, hands resting on hips. "Your stance is very good."
"A compliment? I'm flattered," Rayya returned, the smile never leaving her lips. "And yes, I have. These are my life," she added, drawing her weapons. They were narrow scimitars, slightly curved, and narrowed almost to a point at the tip.
"Those seem to be dangerous – you should probably put them away," Balthier suggested. "You could hurt yourself."
"I never have, Balthier," she shrugged, sliding them away. "However, I intend to prove a point to you."
"And that would be?" he prompted, his body tensing.
"I have no need of the bounty – I just want to kill you myself," she told him calmly, a grin playing her lips as she lunged. Balthier was startled at the speed of her attack, and barely had time to draw his gun, but Fran was ready and waiting for the woman to move. As quick as Rayya had become, she was no match for the movement of the Viera to block her, and halted her attack while jumping backwards to avoid the Weapon Master's slash of an arrowhead.
"Most impressive, Hume," Fran told her, standing in front of Balthier while the woman glared at them with open hostility. All casualness was gone from her demeanor, and her stance was that of a hunter, ready to strike again.
"I was hoping I was quick enough, but apparently I'm not," Rayya said, her calm voice eerie when matched with her eye. "Yet another woman to hide behind, Balthier? I can't say I'm surprised, though I thought a Viera would know better."
"I shield him because we fight together," Fran told her sternly, obviously angry. "Who are you to pass such judgment?"
"One of his victims," the woman replied, her gaze never leaving Balthier. She crouched slightly, her scimitars sticking out behind her as her knuckles whitened on the grip. Her cloak pooled behind her, looking like the back of a skirt, or a flowing tail, the stillness of the fabric only emphasizing her quicksilver reaction time to an opportunity to strike.
"I suggest you make no further moves," Balthier advised, moving to Fran's side. "I'd much rather not kill a woman, especially in the streets."
"And I suggest you not make any further suggestions, Balthier," Rayya said through clenched teeth. "I did not force myself to survive these eight years, and hunt you down, in order to talk!" She moved once more, this time much faster than before, surprising both defenders. Her silver swords flashed in the air like lightening before a tear appeared in his right sleeve, and a thin line of blood appeared.
"Impressive," the sky pirate managed, gathering his senses quickly as usual. Fran had moved further to side, and was staring at the woman in a way that would make the majority of enemies shiver. Rayya was paying no attention to the Viera, however – her attention was solely on Balthier.
"And again, I did not come here to talk," Rayya said curtly, moving once more. This time they were ready, though, and Fran had cast Protect on Balthier without the woman's noticing. Her swords bounced off the shield, and she landed on her feet as she skidded backward a few feet, her swords ringing from the impact.
"Thanks, Fran!" Balthier called with a grin, and the Viera only shook her head.
"I'm not done, bastard," Rayya growled. It was apparent she was quickly losing her former composure, something which could soon work in their favor. She crossed her swords over each other and muttered something under her breath before a silver and white glyph appeared underneath her feet, glowing brightly.
"A Quickening," Fran realized, narrowing her eyes. Balthier steadied himself for the attack, while Fran quickly cast Shell on them.
"Mercy!" Rayya cried, as the glyph surrounded her and fused into her sword. Balthier realized she was going to use her swords, which he saw were charged with Holy, and quickly tried to avoid her. He managed to dodge the full power of the blasts, but was knocked into a wall down the street, falling with blood trickling from a crack in his head.
Fran moved to him without a word, Cure in hand, expecting Rayya to take advantage of their weakness. However, the woman remained standing, her breasts heaving as she drew breath, and it was obvious she had used most, if not all, of her strength and Mist points with the Quickening.
"Are you all right?" she asked, after fixing most of his injuries.
"A little sore, but I'll survive," he said with a slight shrug, getting to his feet and moving towards Rayya. "Now that you've gotten that out of your system, I expect you'll want to retreat before I kill you?" he asked conversationally, but she glared at him.
"Go ahead," she challenged him weakly. "It doesn't matter." The words had barely escaped her lips before she collapsed, folding onto the stones with a 'thud'. Balthier remained staring down at her expressionlessly while Fran strode beside him.
"Do we finish her?" she asked, glancing at him curiously. She had no idea who the woman was, or what she might mean to Balthier, but waited for some hint of an answer.
"If you know the wolf is with the cockatrices, you can keep an eye on it," he said calmly. "We'll bring her with us." While Fran watched, keeping an eye on the woman in case she was faking, Balthier heaved her over his shoulder and headed towards the aerodome.
"Balthier, you prick," Rayya managed, wakening to find herself strapped down to a bed, her swords taken away and a shield over her to prevent casting.
"That's not very nice," he reprimanded her, standing near the door. "I brought you on the Strahl instead of leaving you in the streets of Bhujerba."
"I'd rather have been left," she growled, straining against the bonds for a moment before relaxing in momentary defeat.
"You put up such a fuss about the last time, I didn't think you would," he said lightly. "After all, I'd much rather not give you another reason to try to kill me."
"I'm going to one day," she promised though clenched teeth, wishing she could move away as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her and grinned down at her.
"And I'm sure you will," he agreed. "But I'm practically dead anyway – twenty-four, after all. I'm an old man."
"You won't drop soon enough for me," she informed him coldly, a year younger. He made a noise in his throat before turning his head as the door to the small cabin room opened, and Fran stopped in.
"We're almost there," she told him calmly, sparing only a brief glance for the woman.
"All right," he said agreeably, getting to his feet. "Sorry, Rayya, but you'll have to keep quiet," he informed her, and she opened her mouth to protest before Fran cast Sleep on her. "Let's go," he said, moving through the doorway, but Fran paused, her piercing gaze resting on the now-sleeping woman.
"She must have been pretty – when she was whole," the Viera observed. A creature of the Wood, taking joy in all life and beauty, she found a small part of herself mourning the lost beauty of the young woman before turning to wait for a reply. Balthier remained frozen for a few moments before continuing forward, without a single gesture.
"Most likely," he said calmly, his voice carefully empty. Fran shook her head and shut the door, locking it firmly just in case, renewing the Protect spell on them both.
"Thanks for the help," Balthier grinned, addressing Rikken on the Chivany Breakwater of Balfonheim Port.
"No problem," the man nodded. "We're trying to do the best we can without Reddas, but it's hard going."
"You seem to be doing quite well, though," Fran commented, looking around the prosperous port town. "The people seem content, and there are many merchants and ships doing business with the port."
"Being so close to Archadia and the Naldoean Sea, we're one of the closest contacts for people to the Empire," Rikken agreed with a grin. Balthier offered him a hand, which the pirate eagerly took and pumped heartily. "Good to see you again, Balthier. If you ever feel like settling down, we've got some positions open here."
"Thanks, but no thanks, my friend," the sky pirate replied, shaking his head and withdrawing his hand. "I have my own way of doing things, and steady work like that doesn't amuse me."
"If you say so," the man shrugged, and turned to leave as the pair strode back into the Strahl's hanger.
"Who is that woman, Balthier? Rayya?" Fran asked calmly, but her tone warned the man she wanted an answer.
"You can ask her, Fran," Balthier, his tone just as even, but the corners of his mouth turned down ever-so slightly and his eyes narrowed. "It must be a woman thing."
"Balthier…" the Viera began, but he disappeared into the bridge before she could say anything else. Frowning a bit as well, she strode after him, deciding she would press the issue later.
I like the line "Balthier, you prick." I don't know why - it's funny. Anyway, please review.