Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.
A/N: All the readers should give a huge thanks to Lady PenThier (cause she really, really deserves it!) This story has taken a different direction from my original idea and I hope you enjoy the result! Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers!
Chapter Nine: She Needs To Leave
Penelo was happily chatting away with the Garif trader about the aesthetics of a plain black cooking pot as Noah rolled his eyes and leaned on his staff. It hadn't taken much to get the tall blonde man to agree to go along with her for supplies, but now as she continued her pointless conversation he was rethinking the merit of his intention. She hadn't used guilt to drive him, he had plenty of that all on his own after last night, she had simply asked and he found he could not refuse. So here he stood, impatiently waiting for the woman to realize he was not part of the scenery.
The conversation droned on about the difference between bone and metal needles and Noah was convinced he should have feigned a relapse of his earlier headache. He shifted his weight on the staff and turned his head to take in his surroundings. He had barely contained the sigh of relief as Supinelu's bulk form came striding towards him. Noah glanced back at Penelo who was still engrossed in her conversation and then turned his body around to face the War-Chief and began hobbling in his direction.
"I see you come to replace that which you destroyed in your fit," Supinelu said with a note of laughter in his tone.
Noah flushed with embarrassment as he said, "Aye."
"Though it seems she is more intent on conversation," the Garif stated curiously as he turned his masked head in Penelo's direction.
"One could only hope she will have her fill here and leave me in peace later," Noah bantered back, grateful for the change in topic.
"Would you not grow weary of the silence?" Supinelu questioned in an amused tone.
"Depends on the day," Noah muttered.
"Come let us inform her that I have need of your service."
"And now I owe you an even greater debt," Noah said with a smirk as the War-Chief chuckled.
The two made their way back to Penelo to inform her that Noah was needed elsewhere. Noah had expected her to be angry at his desertion, but she agreed happily and waved the two off as she delved back into her conversation with the trader.
"Something troubles you?" Supinelu questioned as he watched Noah glance back over his shoulder a second time.
"I had expected her to be upset by my leaving," he puzzled.
"Ah," the tall Garif chuckled.
"What?" Noah asked as he glanced at the man by his side.
Supinelu clucked, "A month spent at her side and still you know so little."
"So what is it that you need my assistance for?" Noah said gruffly, changing the subject.
"There is always something that needs to be done in the village. Today we will assist in mending a hut."
"I fear I will not be of much use to you. I know nothing of building nor have I any tools." Noah said with a frown.
"Most of the village youth know nothing of building, but they will lend their aid and learn. The tools are all shared amongst those living in the village so your fears are ill founded." Supinelu stated and then stopped his trek at the hut in need of help.
Penelo had wrapped up her conversation shortly after Noah left with Supinelu. She always enjoyed chatting with the Garif trader. He seemed to be the only one interested in life outside of the village and more often than not, he knew a little information about what was happening in Rabanastre. Though she loved it in Jahara, she was slowly growing homesick.
She held the black kettle pot in her arms as she walked in silence towards her hut. She pondered if it was the buzz of noise the city had always offered that she missed. She recalled the many times herself, Vaan, and a number of the orphans had run errand after errand for Migelo along the streets of the city proper. Her eyes strayed to watch the sky above her and she realized it wasn't the city she missed, it was Vaan.
She had never been apart from him this long. She gave a sigh and passed through the threshold of her hut. Penelo set the pot down by the now extinguished fire and wandered over to her makeshift bed. She sat down and grabbed one of the pillows, hugging it close to her. Her favorite one was now nothing more than ash. She willingly brought forth the slew of memories tied to the tiny piece of scrap she pulled from her pocket.
Penelo was soon to be ten and she was terrified. It seemed everyone she knew was getting sick, her friends, her relatives, and even one of her brothers. The adults were calling it a plague and she had never seen her mother so worried before. When her brother had fallen ill, her parents sent her and her other two brothers to live with an Aunt. Two weeks later Anselm was dead and her Aunt became sick. Penelo and her brothers were hurried back to their parents and Penelo became even more terrified. What if her parents got sick? Where would she and her brothers go then?
Her mother noticed her behavior and decided it was time to put her fears to better use. It was then that Penelo had learned the basics of healing and how to sew. Her very first triumph was that small pale yellow pillow and it became Penelo's source of comfort through the tragedy.
Three weeks later, Vaan and Reks moved in, their parents now ill. Penelo knew who Vaan was, as all the adults were friends, but rarely had she willingly played with the boy. She had offered him the pillow she made and the two became inseparable.
When she was fifteen, it was one of the few things Vaan had salvaged from their home before they both were herded into Lowtown, her own parents now dead. The pillow was there when they had learned her own brothers did not survive in battle, when Reks enlisted, and finally when he too died from his wound, leaving Penelo and Vaan alone in the world.
Vaan… The name echoed through her head like a whisper spoken to the wind. The tears finally slipped from her eyes and down her cheeks onto the pillow. She drew her knees up and buried her face in the pillow unable to stop the flood of loss she was now feeling.
Three hours later Noah was sweaty and convinced he was covered in dirt from head to foot. He had never realized how tiring manual labor actually was. Sure he had always kept in shape by daily exercising and the constant training and honing of his sword work before coming to Jahara, but this was entirely new to him. Today he had spent the time pulling and holding material tight in place on the ground while a Garif youth mended the torn section they were fixing.
The work now complete, Supinelu excused himself to oversee some training and Noah wanted nothing more than to go to his hut, grab a towel, and then enjoy the cool waters of the Sogoht. He felt a small bubble of hope grow within him at the feeling of being able to assist with the repair. Perhaps he was not so useless after all, even with his current injury.
He hobbled through the entrance, so fixated on his intended task, that he hadn't noticed the small form huddled in a tight ball along the side of the hut. He fumbled about in retrieving clothing and his towel awkwardly from the trunk and upon straightening he heard a tiny whimper. His head shot around intent on finding the source of the sound. Noah's blue-grey eyes settled on the diminutive figure sleeping fitfully on the ground.
His soldiered features softened as he quietly made his way towards her, pulling the blanket from his cot with him. Were he able, he would have simply hefted her up and lay her down on the cot. But his injury prevented any type of graceful movement required to let Penelo remain sleeping. Instead he gently draped the blanket over her, glancing at her face. She had a set pout and Noah immediately recognized the tell-tale marks of the tears that had coursed down her cheeks. He frowned. Surely she was not this upset over him leaving her alone with the trader.
He cocked his head to the side as he continued to watch her sleep. Every so often her face would contort into a grimace and Noah was now at a loss for what he should do. Her body gave a jerk and her hand that had been clenched by her cheek opened, revealing an ash covered scrap of fabric.
The tall blonde man swore his heart stopped when the realization hit him that her crying was most definitely because of him. Noah didn't know what that charred piece of material meant, but it had to have been something very important to her and he had destroyed it.
His features darkened as he turned away from the restless girl and slowly made his way out of the hut and down to the Sogoht in an out of the way place for privacy. He went about the task of washing up, mechanically, thinking all the while about how even when he hadn't intended to, he had caused her pain.
Noah gave a frustrated sigh and angrily slapped at the water. He knew she had forgiven him and it just made him angrier. She shouldn't forgive him. He destroyed something that she held dear, something important to her. He growled as he pulled himself from the water and went about the task of drying off and redressing.
As he sat on the ground, he pressed the heel of his palms against his forehead in agitation. Surely his brother was wrong and Penelo knew how to hate. Perhaps she already hated him and was just an exceptional actress. Perhaps all she needed was him to push a little harder and she would admit that she did hate him and she would leave.
For the second time today, Noah felt his heart nearly stop. He didn't want her to leave and he certainly wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt her further. But what if he managed to cause her pain without intending? He had already managed that last night. Who is to say he wouldn't do it again.
Noah snarled as he forcefully hefted himself up with the help of his staff. Penelo needed to leave, no matter how much he wanted her to stay. If she stayed, he could hurt her and he didn't want that. So as he made his way slowly back to the hut, Noah came up with every possible way to get her to leave. And yet a small part of him hoped that she would still be able to forgive him, once he succeeded.
