Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.
Thanks for the reviews! And to answer kactuskat16's (I can't find your profile to message you...), I have played FXII, but not beaten it yet. I'm working on all the side quests before the final dungeon. Yep, I'm that far. And ShadowKitsune19, you have some weird friends - go you!
I'm glad the reception has been good to this story. I like Rayya - she's tougher than a lot of my characters, and her character is a lot more bitter than most of them as well. Interesting to write, believe me! And I love how she and Balthier toy with each other - they both know they're doing it, but won't stop because they think the other would have 'won'.
Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.
"What a shame – you haven't died of old age yet," Rayya sneered early the next morning – or late night, however you looked at it – still confined to the bed. Balthier sighed audibly, showing how put out he was because of her, and took a seat at the edge of the bed again.
"At least I'm not a prick today," he said cheerfully, but she only glared at him.
"I'm keeping myself occupied thinking of some other words. Seeing as I can't do much else."
"I can't exactly let you run loose, now can I?" he pointed out, but she set her jaw stubbornly. They stared at each in silence before Balthier shrugged, and dug around in his pocket for something.
"Your organization skills still frighten me," she said dryly, curious despite herself.
"I still have it, see?" Balthier pointed out, dangling the ornament before her widened eyes. A small but intricate crest, almost like a coat-of-arms, hung off a sturdy silver chain, with pearls inlaid in the silver. "I don't wear it, though," he continued calmly, putting it back. "Don't want to lose it."
"Seeing how tight those pants are, they're much safer in a pocket," she agreed, but her tone was even icier than before. Balthier looked at her for a long moment, his eyes thoughtful, and she glared right back, neither blinking.
"Am I interrupting something?" Fran asked, calm as ever, opening the door.
"Not at all," the sky pirate told her with a grin, almost sounding relieved. "What's going on?" he pressed, getting to his feet.
"You failed to mention our destination," she reminded him, and Rayya narrowed her eyes at them both.
"So what were you doing all night?" she demanded, and Balthier shot a cocky grin her way. If looks could kill, there would be no way to revive the young man at that moment, but he ignored it with his usual composure.
"Resting in the jagd," he informed her, and her jaw dropped despite herself.
"Excuse me?" she managed. "The jagd? Ships can't fly in it!"
"We have a special device, thanks to Dr. Cid," Balthier told her, but his grin slid off his face when he saw her expression at the mention of his father. The blood completely drained from her face, and she almost appeared to shrink. "Well, I better go figure out where I feel like starting up trouble," he said with a false laughter, pushing past Fran in a rush to get out of the room. The Viera examined the young woman intently for a moment before striding up to her and leaning so their faces were even.
"What is the matter?" she asked softly, but Rayya only squeezed her eye shut and shook her head. Fran paused for a moment, and then rested her hand on the eyepatch, surprising the woman. "May I?" the Viera asked. Rayya frowned, obviously not liking it, but assuming Fran would do it anyway, she shrugged. Taking it as a 'yes', Fran lifted the eyepatch, and was surprised despite herself. The eye itself was completely intact, her eyebrow almost normal in appearance, but the scarring around the area was extremely heavy.
"I had someone cast Renew on it," Rayya said softly, noticing the Viera's wonderment. "I was blind. It healed the eye itself, but the rest can't be fixed."
"Why do you hide it?" Fran queried, but the young woman turned her head away with a small sigh. The Viera gazed at her for a bit longer before rising, placing the patch on the table beside the bed, and left the room without another word.
"Stupid prick of a pirate," Rayya muttered, almost in a whisper.
"I think I deserve to know what it is going on, Balthier," Fran announced, taking a seat next to him on the bridge.
"About what, Fran?" he asked innocently, but she only rolled her eyes.
"Pathetic," she commented, before becoming serious. "About that woman – Rayya. She despises you, and I do not believe you are that fond of her yourself."
"Well, she is trying to kill me. It does put a damper on our relationship," Balthier admitted, but his tone was only disguising a deeper feeling. Fran frowned at him sternly, and he sensed a lecture coming on. Surprisingly, the Viera didn't say a word, only leaned back and continued to watch him. "Fran, there's nothing to worry about."
"I highly doubt that, when there is a woman concerned," the Viera said lightly, but turned and said no more on the subject. Balthier grunted, folding his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.
Rayya woke later that morning, feeling much better than before, and then realized her eyepatch had been taken off. Looking around frantically, it was nowhere to be found, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"That ass of a pirate can't help himself, can he?" she thought spitefully, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to rest her feet on the floor before she even processed the fact that she could move. Pausing in surprise, she looked around, and set her jaw when she saw Balthier lounging against the wall next to the door. The man was smirking in self-satisfaction, her eyepatch twirling around his finger.
"Your eyes are much too pretty to be covered up with something like this," he commented, catching it in his palm and smoothly pocketing it. Rayya couldn't believe his audacity, and choked on her rage. Looking slightly nervous, Balthier straightened a bit and held his hands out in a peaceful gesture.
"Look, before you throttle me, Fran is the one who removed it," he reminded her. "Early this morning. You must have been really out of it. And I have to thank whoever fixed that eye of yours – they did the world a great service."
Rayya made a strangled sort of noise in her throat, turning red, and for a moment Balthier thought she was choking – until she threw herself at him in a rage.
"Bastard," she hissed, her arms pinned as he held them firmly above her head, looking down at her. She reached slightly above his shoulder, and hated having to tilt her head to look at him.
"That's not very creative," he said, in what actually sounded like genuine disappointment. "I was looking forward to what you could come up with. Ah well."
"Give it back," she spat, straining against his grip to no avail.
"I think not," Balthier replied calmly, holding her as easily as if she were a child. Sometimes appearances really were deceiving. "And you can ask Fran – she took it off, so don't start throwing a tantrum at me about it."
"I am not!" Rayya informed him coldly, pulling away from him sharply, and twisting her wrist in the process. Wincing, she hid her hands behind her back, her look daring him to try to inspect them.
"If you say so," he said mildly, indeed reaching for her arm.
He woke a few minutes later, finding himself on his back and Rayya sneering down at him, looking smug with satisfaction.
"Please don't tell me you did what I think you did," he moaned, pride wounded almost beyond repair.
"Of course I did," she purred, another one of those sincere smiles flitting across her lips.
"Why does she always seem to smile like that just as she's about to do something very bad?" Balthier wondered, despite the pain in the back of his head, and then became abruptly aware of a pain rather lower down. "You…" he managed, bravely trying to preserve his dignity and not clench his knees together.
"If you ever touch me again, I'll take the opportunity to slit your throat open when you're unconscious," Rayya informed him with another smile, this one very wide indeed. She had flipped him over her head with a grunt of effort, and had managed to knock him out with the blow. Afterwards, she had decided to make him suffer for the embarrassments he had forced upon her, and did her best to ensure there would never be a 'Balthier Jr.' running around.
"I'm touched you didn't earlier," he managed, trying desperately and barely succeeding not to squeak. She looked a bit disappointed when he stumbled to his feet a few moments later, having expected him to be down at least another ten minutes.
"I'm impressed," she admitted, her turn to use the phrase. "You can walk."
"A little," he nodded, gripping the table with knuckles white from the effort. "Thanks to you."
"It was the least I could do," she replied sweetly, and he suddenly realized her scimitars were once more in her possession.
"Oh dear."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," she shrugged, noticing where his eyes were looking at. "Not yet, anyway. I'm having far too much fun abusing you. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of it," she added, but he grinned weakly at her, still trying to ignore the pain.
"Eight years?" he guessed, and she shook her head in wry amusement.
"It was a stupid thing to say," Rayya sighed, fingering the hilt of one scimitar with what seemed like longing while she gazed at him. "I'll have to think of something better next time."
"How about…I call you Miss Cactuar?" he suggested, and immediately regretted it when a silver blade was pressed against his throat. "Hey, watch the shirt!" he protested, seeing a tear begin in the neck. She snorted, and not in amusement, before withdrawing the weapon.
"If you ever say something like that again, I won't stop," she warned him calmly, taking a step back and observing him. Balthier suppressed a chuckle at her expression, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Never mind."
"If you knew I was alive, would you have tried to bring me with you?" she asked, suddenly and quite seriously, catching the sky pirate off-guard. He rocked on his feet for a second before regaining his balance, and stared back at her. When she realized he was trying to decide, a strange look crossed her face before she turned her back to him, head hanging slightly. He opened his mouth to apologize, but her quiet words cut off anything he might have said.
"Are you at least sorry?"
"Yes," he said, realizing that he was sincere, in that reply, at least. She nodded, as if thinking something over, before shrugging and heading towards the door, sparing a moment to glance at him.
"Still the same," she commented, but the words made Balthier's blood run cold, for reasons he chose not to dwell on. Striding after her quickly, lest Fran think her escaped and subdue her, the sky pirate took a moment to finger the crest in his pocket, and sighed slightly before appearing just at ease as ever.
"Humes are very strange creatures," Fran commented, eyeing the woman sideways with suspicion. Despite Balthier's assurances that he had released Rayya, the Viera sensed the young woman was even more determined to kill Balthier than before, and knew the sky pirate believed his enemy pacified for the time being.
"All you did was stoke the fire inside of her, Balthier," she thought with a sigh, shaking her head to herself.
"All races are like that," Balthier shrugged, and glanced at her. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing," she assured him, and then wrinkled her nose. "And I object to that – Humes are quite unique in their mannerisms."
"You don't see Humes as a whole walking around half-naked with rabbit ears," Rayya muttered, in one of the seats behind Balthier. She had stared at the back of his head for the better part of an hour, and only stopped to glare at Fran, who had convinced her she had taken the patch off.
"It's usually not a good idea to anger the co-pilot, Rayya," Balthier admonished her. "If you don't want to be dropped into Raithwall's tomb, I suggest you apologize."
If the woman had cat ears, they would have flattened in protest – as it was, she crossed her arms stubbornly and glared back defiantly.
"It is quite all right, Balthier," Fran said calmly. "We simply do not yet understand each other."
"That's for damn sure," Rayya muttered, and ignored the warning look Balthier shot her.
"How in Zeromus' name did I end up like this?" she thought sourly, as they flew over the skies of Rabanastre, preparing to land in the aerodome. "I want to kill this man, not travel with him and his Viera! Not listen to his meaningless words and false impressions…not remember," she finished dejectedly inside her head, and looked rather depressed outside as well.
"If you must kill someone, challenge a fighter to a duel in the Sandsea," Balthier suggested cheerfully, as Fran handled the intricate piloting to ensure they didn't die. "They're always spoiling for a fight. And there aren't any Imperials around, so no one's going to lock you up. Well, unless you make a mess of it," he amended, but decided not to say anything else when he saw the look he was receiving – surprisingly, from both women.
"Who knew?" he muttered in his head, and shrugged as Fran finished the landing. Standing, he offered a hand to Rayya to help her up, unsure how long it had been since she had flown, but she almost ripped his hand off before stalking out, hands resting on scimitar hilts.
"She is a rather scary Hume," Fran commented, behind him. "I am glad they are not all like that."
"She's a unique one, all right," he agreed, and then paused, eyeing his partner in suspicion. "Wait, are you trying to tell me something?"
"Watch your back – you may find silver in it," the Viera cautioned, moving past him to leave the ship as well. Staring into space for a moment, carefully considering her words, Balthier nodded, having already known he had provoked Rayya to the point of violence once more.
Rayya sat by herself at the counter of the bar, crouched low over the first alcohol she had touched in years, and relishing the atmosphere. She hadn't stepped foot inside Rabanastre for at least three years, and the city had changed much in that period. She noticed Balthier flirting with a pretty woman, and her temper immediately flared up before she could stop herself. Clenching the glass so hard it cracked slightly, she slowly took a deep breath.
"Another," she ordered, moving the empty glass towards one of the bartenders. He eyed her, noticing the hairline cut on her palm, but shrugged and obliged, not trying to start trouble in his bar.
"There you are," he said mildly. She took it and tipped her head back gratefully, welcoming the obliterating numbness. Unfortunately, she held her alcohol too well for her liking, and after her third hit she still wasn't even close to getting drunk.
"Hey, beautiful," a man greeted her with a grin, slinging an arm over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she waited approximately three seconds before flinging him over her shoulder and into the notice board behind her.
"Not a good idea," she hissed, noticing several of his friends approaching. Whirling around as one jumped her, she kicked him in the gut, and he fell to the ground with a grunt. Swiftly grabbing a liquor bottle and breaking it on a table, another man advanced toward her, the weapon held menacingly. Rayya only grinned at him cheerfully, beckoning him to come on.
"Balthier, you did this on purpose," Fran commented, following the pirate around as he slyly took several choice articles from their unconscious owners.
"I heard Hazul was going to be in town," he said casually, straightening up only to see Rayya backing up, the bottle waved toward her face. Her hair covered most of her right side as usual, but it was swept aside as she dived, trying to avoid a wild swing. He paused when a narrow gash appeared on her right temple, from the broken bottle, and calmly drew his gun out.
"We may as well," the Viera sighed, as her partner strode into the midst determinedly.
Rayya pushed herself back to her feet with a mumbled curse, and yelped when someone suddenly dragged her to the side of the counter.
"Hey!" she protested, and then realized it was Balthier, gun pointed at the man with the bottle.
"And who're you?" the man demanded angrily, but Balthier only shrugged.
"I find it hard to believe you were raised without being told never to hit a lady – particularly with that," the young man added with distaste. "Ah well, I suppose there's nothing to be done about it now. If you'll all run along, I won't cause further injury."
"You haven't caused any injury, you ass!" Rayya hissed at him, angry that he thought he should protect her now, and jumped when his gun suddenly went off.
"Now I have," Balthier replied with a saucy grin, as the man's arm hung limply by his side.
"My arm!" he howled, and glared at Balthier. "You…"
"The name's Balthier, not you," the sky pirate corrected, as Fran moved to the side of the attackers, bow and arrow in hand.
"W-wait – Balthier?" the man repeated nervously, backing up a little. "Never mind," he added, before heading out the door. Several men followed, and Balthier turned, twirling his gun around his fingers before getting knocked down.
"I was enjoying myself," the young woman informed him, having clocked him. "No one asked you to interfere."
"That bottle did," he objected, but she only snorted.
"Please, spare me."
"I believe we should leave, if we have no further business here," Fran interjected, striding between them as Balthier got back to his feet and retrieved his gun.
"Good idea, Fran," he agreed, casting an annoyed glance at the bleeding woman before shrugging and going out the door, whistling a tune.
"I'm fine," Rayya growled, avoiding the Viera's attempt to Cure her. "Another scar isn't going to hurt much."
I had to have a barfight scene. I like making things appear lighthearted in this story, but (I hope) that you can tell it has a darker side to everything. I try having Fran communicate that with her words and actions. Review, please?
