Chapter Ten – By The Naldoan Sea

I

Surrounded by the tangy smell of sea, it's soft wind, stroking through the heigh-lofted windows of the Reddas-mantse, Balthier could only conclude that the man had been lucky indeed. This would be a comfortable set up even for a judge. And when an ex-judge usually found themselves surrounded by prison-bars, if alive at all, Reddas had very little to complain about. Not that Balthier had ever sought this sort of affluence. Nor did he want it. Still, it was a nice reprieve from run down inns and the confining cabin of the Strahl. It's not like he had ever had any problem with excess either, he thought whilst leaning back in his designated chair, feeling the upholstery wrap itself around his back, the setting sun in his face.

But seeming indifference was a rare talent, at least in present company. Penelo was withdrawn, as she had been for the last day, standing with her back to the room, reprising the sea at dusk. He suspected she had never been in this part of Ivalice before; the Naldoan sea, it's warm winds and fresh air no doubt a novelty to her. But the others did not share their appreciation of the surroundings. They had all huddled together around the table, whilst waiting for Reddas to come back from wherever he'd gone off to. They were no doubt expecting news or orders of some sort, rather than retiring for the eve. Such eagerness, Balthier scoffed to himself. What an abominable waste of opportunity, this may very well be their last chance to experience decadence and joy. Yet all they wanted was battle. And a battle they would get. A great war was looming, one that would decide the fate of Ivalice, and yet the sun still shone.

It would appear that recent events had even begun to take their toll on Fran, who, as she stepped up to him, seemed lacking in some of her usual vigour.

"They keep us waiting, these pirates. More tardy than even you, Balthier."

Balthier snickered, but didn't answer. She was just stalling, he knew, before she would move on to her actual point.

"I think it is too late for a meeting now. We will have to wait until morning."

"We need not only information. Some new supplies too, I think. And some proper rest. We'd best stay on, no matter how eager our Princess," he muttered watching Ashe as she paced impatiently across the floor. "Do you know what they spoke of, in the cockpit?"

"Penelo, I should think. Reddas does not want to bring her along. Fears her power, I think he does."

"Who wouldn't?" It was instinct, after all. "But do you believe the Princess will heed his advice?"

Fran stepped over to the window, leaning against its frame, while tapping the heel of her shoe, a gesture only she could make elegant, he thought, while watching her.

"I believe the Princess would be hesitant to relinquish any sort of power."

He fingered the poster he'd stuffed in his trouser-pocket, thinking it wouldn't much matter what they said; Penelo could do as she pleased. And at the moment, it seemed she favoured his company. She too appraised the world, deaf to the complaints of those behind her. At long last the doors were pulled apart, giving way not to Reddas himself, but to his right-hand man, Ric. The sun, setting early in such tropical environments, had sunk half-way behind the horizon, lending dramatic light to his entrance.

"I fear Reddas is engaged elsewhere at the moment," he said, addressing the Princess. "If it suits you, he should like to postpone the meeting until morning."

At last Balthier relinquished his seat, and joined in on the conversation. Ashe was not happy with these news, but Basch, who surely saw the same practical obstacles as Balthier of proceeding too fast, seemed almost relieved, though he did not show his employer.

"And what is so important that he cannot see us presently. Or indeed have informed us of these news earlier. We have wasted valuable hours here."

Ric gave a curt nod, appraising what she'd said, manners that were altogether unexpected of a pirate.

"M'lady must understand, there is no little responsibility that rests on Reddas' shoulders. We do things differently here, and in our own pace."

"And even if you, Princess, can stride forth into battle without weapons or remedies, the rest of us cannot," Balthier interjected. "We will need to stock up on supplies."

"I thought we already did, back at your place," Vaan said, trying to be part of the discussion.

"You too must be a stranger to these shores. Here are people from all over Ivalce, having brought with them the best from their own homestead. We will be hard-pressed to find somewhere with better weapons, magics or techniques. Besides, I need rest. And a bath perhaps. And a drink."

"I believe Balthier is right," Basch nodded. "Though I will spend my leisure-time in a more productive manner, I think it best we stay the night. Here, in Balfornheim."

II

"Do I detect a hint of naldoan in your accent?" Balthier muttered with half-hearted assay, as he leaned over the counter, awaiting his refreshments. He received no reply for this rather lame attempt, but the night was still young and he did not like to employ too much effort early on. As the wench took her leave, his order was ready; five beers and a lemon water – Fran, despite her ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol, did not prefer others to see her drunk.

Navigating through the crowd, tray held with the same effortlessness of any bar-made, as skill any apprentice pirate acquired. In fact, Vaan should really be the one to do this, seeing as the young man was so eager to learn. Balthier came to wonder when he'd begun to think of himself as no longer a young man. By any accounts he still was, and yet, he had assumed the authority that age brought, as Basch and Fran.

They were all waiting by a table on the second floor. It was less crowded here, less noise so that one might speak in private. And it was on Balthier's authority that they'd been let in, so he was not entirely wrong to assume this mantle. They all seemed tense, save Fran who looked disinterested, and Vaan who seemed eager in the face of what he hoped would be his future.

"Let me help you with that," he said, rushing to 'the older man's' aid. He lifted two of the jugs of the tray, handing one of them to Penelo. His gaze immediately sought Fran's, as he was sure she thought the same; Vaan seemed to have put his momentary grudge behind him, now ready to forgive his friend her laps in humanity.

Balthier took his seat between Fran and Penelo, hunching over his drink like a proper man, assessing the ambiance of the party.

"We are a merry bunch indeed," he drawled, nudging Penelo to exite a snigger. He received no such thing, she as withdrawn as before.

"Forgive me, pirate, but currently I have nothing of which to smile about," Ashe replied sternly, sipping her beer.

"There I must presume to dispute with you, Princess. You are alive, are you not?"

"Indeed," Basch nodded, "after all that has passed, on this day alone, we are lucky to be here, alive and well."

To a degree, Balthier thought, appraising the quiet girl next to him. To compare her audacity of only days past; her teasing in regards to the malborough, to her dejected countenance. The contrast was stark indeed. And it affected them all. But nevertheless:

"Tonight we will make marry!" he declared, chugging the better part of his drink. Vaan followed suit, and was soon on his way to fetch the second round.

"At least we're not short of funds. I still cannot conceive how Reddas, or indeed this city mange so well with so little effort. Aside from the fishermen it would seem you have no primary resources at all."

"You forget, Princess, we are pirates. That is also a resource of sorts."

She snickered, a glint of defiance in her eyes that told of an argument to come.

"You mean to say that you pay tax of your loot?"

"Not when life is well," he adjusted his cuffs, feigning disinterest. "Usually we get our funds from what we rob, and spend it here, thus funding the shops, making the city go round. Every man for himself, unlike a monarchy, we don't pay for other people's luxuries."

The bait was plain, even Ashe could see it. And yet, Balthier saw that it was only with great care she refrained from taking it. She, like himself, must have been trained in the rhetorical arts.

"However," he added when her face had returned to a more normal colour, "when our autonomy is threatened, we sometimes join forces. Either in terms of man-power, or funds. So a tax of sorts has been created to fund the resistance, a tax that you have reaped the benefits of these past two years."

As he cut of his speech, the table fell silent. It was not until Vaan returned with refreshments, that she was collected enough to answer.

"This lack of loyalty, betraying ones own nation, it's disgusting. Without heed for ones fellow man, without helping those in need."

"And yet I see far less suffering here, then in your lowtown, Princess. We value our freedom."

He accepted his glass with a brief thanks, overlooking Basch' stern gaze.

"And if I may point out, your entire endeavour is dependent upon people who has, as you put it, betrayed their homestead. Fran, myself, Reddas, and even your Captain; none of us are Dalmascan. And yet, here we all are, standing together on the precipice."

"Do you deliberately try to provoke me? These are not ordinary times, the suffering is caused by your country's invasion. A state could not possibly survive like this, not without receiving an invasion in kind."

She spluttered, too affected to make much of an argument. There was, he had to admit, a perverse sort of joy in tormenting her. Perhaps he should have stayed in politics.

"You forget, we are not a nation; I do not belong to any nation. We sought together merely of practicality, but we owe fidelity to no one, as we don't expect it in turn. I do not think you quite comprehend what we are, Princess."

Though he ended on a kindly note, she was too far provoked. Not even bothering to finish her drink, she stood, fetching a room-key from the table.

"I will have no more of this. Come, Basch, I fear we are not welcome in such a place."

And as the obedient dog he was, Basch rose, still with the same intimidating gaze at Balthier, and followed her further up in the edifice, to the chambers they had reserved for the night.

"Sleep well," he called after them, "and wake me if you manage to conjure some reply."

"That was a little mean," Vaan muttered, though he did not really seem to care. "But I don't think Ashe quite understands. She's not so open minded."

"I don't believe that was why she objected," he countered, leaning back in his chair, overlooking the now almost empty room. "She can't understand how people of affluence can bee so inconsiderate of the poor. She will make a fine Queen, but I implore you Vaan," he added, turning to the boy, "do not make her your partner."

He seemed to take this sage advice to heart, nodding gravely. "Penelo will be my partner," he said.

At this, they both turned to the quiet girl. She had not even finished her drink. At the weight of their collective gazes, she looked up. She had not yet gathered her hair back in their braids, making it fall in front of her face like a veil. It fell back as she straightened up, making her eyes visible.

"I don't think I'm cut out for sky-pirating," she muttered, a weak smile playing about her lips. "You will have to rid my head if it's price first."

"My darling, we are taking on an entire empire. Doctor Cid is no match," Balthier tried to comfort in his most suave tone. "And you will certainly not be the first pirate in special circumstance. Take Fran, for example."

He was not quite certain if his own partner would be offended at this comparison. He assumed not, and if she were, she hid it well.

"It is as Balthier said," Fran pointed out, speaking for the first time, "we owe our loyalty to no one. This is the ultimate freedom, I should think it would suit you both very well."

They both looked a little cheered by this, Penelo regaining some of er usual bloom, her cheeks flushing in excitement at the older woman's approval. To think it had actually come to this, the two loners encouraging the two aspirants, goading them into a career of thievery.

"Not to mention certain other perks," Balthier added, as the wench that had previously rejected eyed him with renewed interest. It was often when women saw the Viera he travelled with that he caught their attention. He could not comprehend why, but had taken advantage of that fact many a time.

"Remember, you are to share room with the Captain," Fran pointed out, as she followed his line of sight.

And right she were. Privates may not mind loose moral, but generals did not take the rules lightly. But it did not much matter, Balthier was in no mood. Not tonight, shocking though it was, it had, after all, been quite a long time. But neither women, nor drink tasted as good as usual.

"Quite so," he muttered, finishing off his beer nevertheless. "It is warm, I think I will go for a walk. Leave the room open Vaan."

With that concluding remark he left the others to take the bill.

III

Maybe it was having to share a room with Vaan, maybe it was Penelo's oppressive presence, but he did not return to the inn shortly. He had assumed they would be offered hospitality by Reddas, but no such luck. As he had told Ashe before, every man fended for himself.

Though the sun set early in this place, the sky was far from dark. No stars shone quite as bright as by the Naldoan sea. And in this port there were not enough lights to chase them away. Balthier was not a romantic man, and was not in the habit of stargazing, but even he had to appreciate the luminous dots that had saved his life more than once when his navigational system was broken. He could imagine Penelo being one for stargazing. If they ever got past present débâcles and she got her condition under control, he made a silent promise to bring her out to one of the southern isles and let her lie in the sand and look to her hearts content.

He avoided the brothels and the bars, heading for the peer, now that his mind was on the ocean. To think, by the age of eighteen he'd owned these streets, figuratively of course. He'd been the envy of every pirate. Having now taken on a noble course, he only received a few nods of recognition, most of them from whores.

The bell tower at the top of the city struck three, another our, irreversible, had past. Roaming the streets to no end, would do little good. He was cold, he was tired, and surely he would pay for this on the morrow. But rest alluded him, and he could not bear the though of lying awake in a bed, listening to the snores of the two other men, wallowing in fear of what was to come. Because he was frightened, he had to admit as much, if only to himself. Death was certain, and it did not scare him, he'd made his piece with his own mortality a long time ago. But the thought of how he lived, and what he would leave behind, should he chose wrong, frightened him to no end.

In the middle of his self-pitying monologue, he rounded a corner, strolling down the peer. At the end of the almost deserted passage-way, there seemed to be some commotion. Balthier was in no mood for a fight, but he was not so passive as to ignore it completely. Taking a few tentative steps down the peer, he saw who it was. Penelo.

The girl got into more trouble than anyone he knew- and that included both himself and Vaan. She was currently facing down two men, that both seemed to have taken a shine to her. They were drunk, and she was dangerous, and yet he felt angry, almost scared on her behalf. He was being hypocritical, how many times had he approached someone who were, by all accounts, uninterested. And yet with Penelo it seemed like such a gross impertinence.

She had some sort of hold over him, even he could see that as he set in a short sprint across the docs.

It was for Penelo's benefit he acted, it did not occur to him that it might be her assailants he saved. In any case, she gave him a look of both relieve and gratitude as he reached them, grabbing hold of the one fellows arm, pulling him back.

"Gentlemen, we are in a pirate-port, finding someone willing should be no problem, so you might as well leave this one alone," he said with mock courtesy.

The man who's arm he'd grabbed, a gruff man about his own age, pulled his hand back in anger, but as he took a closer look at Balthier's face, seemed to ease up.

"Balthier? It's Balthier, isn't it?"

He did not protest, as the accusation was true, and somewhat disturbing.

"I am," he nodded.

The fellow's face broke up in a grin, and suddenly realisation dawned; this was no stranger.

"Cullyn?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's been too long, mate. This is my new partner, Dannyn," he said, gesturing to the other man. Penelo stood in the middle looking decidedly confused.

"Listen, we're not looking for a lady-friend, we're out hunting, see?"

"Hunting? In the port?"

Cullyn nodded, gesturing to the girl between them.

"She's a soul-something-or-other. Anyway, there's a big price on her head, and we're about to claim it."

But of course, he had the poster in his trouser-pocket, how could he have been so unforgivably slow? He berated himself in silence, trying to calculate his way out of the situation. Cullyn was a fair-minded man as far as pirates went, but he was still a thief, still a hunter. He would not want to relinquish his bounty.

"Listen...mate, this is rather awkward, but she has already been claimed. The girl is with me."

Cullyn and his partner stood silent for a moment, they did not protest, but neither did they let her go. Then at last Cullyn spoke.

"Excuse me? You let your hunts walk around as they wish?" he asked, more in disbelief than curiosity.

"Yes, evidently."

They were not buying his lie, and understandably so, it was rather lame. Penelo seemed to slip over the edge and into panic, her eyes wide and frightened, her body shaking slightly. It was imperative that he should save her, not only for her own sake, but for his own life as well. Who only knew what would happen if she did not calm down.

"It is Fran's work. She puts a spell on them. They become docile, so there is no need for a tight watch."

Cullyn did still not look convinced, but he respected Balthier, and what's more, he downright dreaded Fran, after an unfortunate incident in the Golmore Jungle. He knew this, and playing on his fear, and Fran's skill, seemed to actually be working. After a moments more hesitation, Cullyn stepped back, Dannyn following suit.

"Right," he said, "if you say so. Se you around, Balthier."

"A good night to you," Balthier called after them as they retreated into the dark.

As soon as they disappeared, Penelo's body relaxed visibly, and she breathed out a long sigh. Having escaped so narrowly, Balthier did however not share her relief, but rather felt anger spike.

"Silly girl, why would you do that, what are you doing, strolling these streets alone?"

She did not protest, but seemed just as dejected as before.

"Silly girl," he said again, this time shaking her shoulders for good measure. "Have you any idea you were endangering us all?"

Still she did not answer. He thought he might have seen a tear slip down her cheek, but it was too dark to be certain. His mind was already plotting the least crowded route home, when it happened. His hands still on her shoulders, they were quite close, and so it was with very little effort that she leaned forth and kissed him. It was not tentative as one might imagine a girl like her would kiss. It was determined, passionate he thought, as her lips pressed firmly against his. And thought it was wrong on many a level, he could not help but to kiss back.

A/N: I had some major troubles with this chapter. The 'political' discussion was not very original, I know. But I always imagined Balthier and Ashe to have quite different opinions, so there you are...

Also I've come to realize that the last scene is problematic, but this was the best I could do. Hope you enjoyed the read anyway!