She takes the picture from his hands and examines it. It's a hand-drawn miniature, not much more than a rough sketch, but the hair and the demeanor clearly identify the picture's subject. "Remarkable," she mutters.
Balthier continues to pick through the supplies. She watches him toss books this way and that, their pages now sprinkled with a fresh layer of sand. "Cid came all the way into the city," he remarks in awe. "Perhaps this is where he and Venat…"
His voice trails off, and she cannot believe it. Balthier's father was in this very spot nearly a decade ago, and he must have been the one to carve that message into the crystal. How long had he been trapped down here? She wants to ask Balthier how long his father had been gone that year. Cid may have inadvertently given them the clue they've needed all this time, the way to unseat the Occuria from their throne above the men of Ivalice.
"If he made it home to Archades after his journey to Giruvegan, then surely there is an exit down here…" Ashe looks around, seeing the dark metallic wall drift off into shadow as it curves its way around. "Somewhere."
He's still going through Cid's abandoned belongings, and she allows him time to do so. She's never pried much into Balthier's past. It had clearly hurt him enough to kill his own father, although the man was not the same one Balthier had obviously adored as a child. The man who would take a miniature of his son along to the unknown mists of the Feywood.
Balthier sighs and abandons his search. "There's really no avoiding him, is there?"
She picks up one of the discarded books and begins thumbing through it, the pages worn from years of neglect in the damp humidity beneath the city. "Perhaps in death he may help us."
He stretches out in the sand, still trying to recover from his messy landing in the water earlier. "Core, huh? You think that's his big message? What the devil could we really do? Can't exactly transport in and lay charges."
Ashe lets her eyes run over some lines of poetry, trying to imagine what Balthier's father could have been like. She'd only known him as a power-mad tyrant. Remembering what she'd meant to tell him before they'd found Cid's belongings, she knows he will not like it. "We must go to Draklor."
"Absolutely…"
"…not, I know," she finishes when he frowns at her. "But they've surely got stores of manufacted nethicite there. It might cancel out the remaining power of the crystal here."
"Cancel out?" Balthier interrupts. "Are we speaking of the same crystal? You remember the little bits Larsa had…not much larger than a chocobo dropping." She sighs at his crude analogy, and he chuckles. "You'd need a piece the size of the Strahl to cancel out that bloody thing."
Ashe smiles. "Well, perhaps it could use a boost. Take the manufacted stuff, add a bit of firepower and blow the whole city."
He cocks his head and looks at her strangely. "My lady, are you suggesting we bomb this hallowed ground? With what? If you can think of a ship that will fit through that gate…"
"What if…" She feels as though she's grasping at straws now. "We placed the explosives and nethicite ourselves and then remotely detonated…"
"Ashe, wait," he interrupts, giving her shoulder a shake. "One step at a time." Balthier scratches his chin and thinks. "Can we go back to the part where we're breaking into Draklor? If you recall, you're a wanted fugitive."
She smiles and rises to her feet. "You're a wanted fugitive in many places, are you not?"
He scowls at her. "This is different. Your plan is a bit strange, but it might work." He stands as well and begins to pace, thinking things over. "I'm no weapons expert, but I'm not so bad with machines. A remote device would be a long shot, but I'm no slouch with giant hulking sky fortresses. A lousy crystal should be a walk in the park."
"Then let's find an exit. We'll find Fran and head for Archades."
"No, not a chance," he mutters, tugging on her arm before she can move away from him. "I'll find Fran. She and I will head for Archades, and…"
If he thinks to take her back to Ridorana to wait things out, he is sorely mistaken. Wrenching her arm from his grasp, Ashe backs off and heads to follow the metal wall. "This is not a negotiation. I'm going with you."
She can hear his footsteps in the sand behind her. He will do everything in his power to keep her from going. But her mind will not waver. Strange that she worked so hard to make her way out of Archades so many days ago. But Draklor will have what they need, and she'll not sit back and let Balthier and Fran alone risk their lives on such a dangerous plan. Balthier does not verbally complain for the next several minutes as they make their way along the walls, but she can just sense his displeasure. She admits that he's worked hard to protect her all this time. But now they must stop running. They must act.
"We'll need a way into the lab," she continues after some time. "You're the clever one with plotting. Ideas?"
Balthier grumbles under his breath before responding audibly. "Let's get there first, shall we?"
Finally, Ashe can see a faint light in the distance, and they hurry along to discover a jagged break in the metal, large enough for a person to fit through. She can smell the fresher air outside, and can hear the flowing water of the river beyond. The water they'd landed in probably leads out to the river, but neither of them would be able to submerge long enough to make their way out. This is their only exit. Kneeling down for a closer look, she can see a small knife resting in the sand. "My gods," she says in realization. "He cut his way out."
Balthier runs his hand along the jagged cuts. No wonder Cid went mad – it must have taken him weeks to cut through. Perhaps Venat had been the only guidance he'd had in all of that time. She keeps these thoughts from Balthier, knowing that he is probably already consumed with the idea of it himself. She thinks she hears him offer a quiet bit of thanks to his father as he crawls out the opening and onto the riverbank where darkness has fallen.
--
She is utterly exhausted when they reach the Strahl two days later. Their swim back across the shore from the city had been the easy part. The mists in the Feywood were treacherous, and they'd gotten turned around a few times. Her earlier ease of conversation with Balthier had chilled along with the air as they drew closer to Paramina Rift once more. After so many days on foot, Balthier was incredibly irritable, and it didn't help that they'd be flying into the heart of the Empire shortly. He'd tried to coerce her out of coming along at every break in their arduous march, but Ashe would have none of it.
Fran awaits them at the top of the hatch. "One more day, and I would have thought you both lost to the Mist."
"Lovely to see you as well, Fran," Balthier snits at her, lugging his pack into the Strahl. Why he'd still insisted on hauling the metal and other loot about, Ashe would never understand. "How's my ship?"
"Nearly six days moored in frozen tundra. You tell me," his partner replies calmly as they both depart for his cabin. Ashe has a feeling they will be discussing her for some time, and she does not care to be present for that argument. Instead, she lets herself into Fran's cabin where her legislative scribblings have waited patiently for her return.
Several days' break from laws and tangible proof of her royal station floods back through her, and she frets over Dalmasca. Surely by now Rozarria has made some move against her capital. With their lack of success, or anything whatsoever, in Giruvegan, they've been unable to draw Occurian attention away from Hammad. She prays that the Rozarrians have held their leader back far better than her own council had behaved with her.
Ashe cannot dwell on it now. She must think of Draklor, of some means to get into the place. Her fingers drift over the pages and pages of notes, of laws to be changed and mandates to be written. The white snow visible outside fades as night comes. She barely notices Balthier enter until he's standing over her where she sits on the cabin floor, and his fingers tangle absentmindedly in her hair. It's almost a familiar feeling now, having his hands upon her.
"They don't know your hair is black," he mutters, winding a few strands into a loose little braid while she closes her eyes to enjoy the feeling. Has he finally agreed that leaving her behind is not an option? He runs his fingers over her scalp, scratching lightly when she purrs her approval.
"What does Fran think?"
At the sound of her voice, the spell is seemingly broken. He takes his hand away and moves back to the door. "Well, when she hasn't been de-icing the ship in our absence, she's actually been thinking in the same twisted vein as yourself."
She already misses the feeling and sighs. "She has thought of Draklor?"
Balthier shakes his head. "Not exactly. But she wants to expand our little crime syndicate."
Ashe quirks her head at that. "What do you mean?"
He leans in the doorway, and she doesn't know how she can stay on the floor and not leap towards him. They'd been bickering and arguing all the way back from Giruvegan, but now that they are here aboard the Strahl again, she wants nothing more than to feel his hands on her. It won't be easy now that they both know how the other feels. Hopefully, their excursion to Draklor will keep their urges in check.
Balthier grips the doorframe and smirks, seeming to stay away from her on purpose. It appears that he is having similar problems now that they are back on the slightly more comfortable and private airship, Fran's presence notwithstanding. "She wants to get Basch involved."
"Basch? But…"
He holds up his hand to silence her, and she feels her fingers shaking over the stacks of papers ripped from Balthier's books. Their last meeting with Basch had gone horribly, couldn't Balthier see that? He'd been nearly knocked unconscious. "We would need his help to get into Draklor with less fuss. Can get us false papers. Of course, it would be a cake walk were Fran and I to go alone…"
"…which isn't happening," she interrupts, and he smiles broadly.
"As I said to Fran. So we'll have to let the cat out of the bag about you. He won't be too friendly, I suspect. But I'll let him hit Fran this time. She can take a punch far better than I can."
Balthier is using humor as a distraction, and for once, she is glad of it. Getting into Archades will be nerve wracking. Ashe feels the ship begin to rumble to life, and Balthier's nod lets her know that they are already on the way to the capital. "So what is the plan?"
He is all business now, his eyes less lustful and in that crafty state that she's usually found rather repugnant. "Fran will drop us off in the Uplands. You and I go through Sochen and hole up in Old Archades until she can get a meeting with Basch in the capital. She'll be the more official face of the operation. Fran will get us the papers, we get in, get what we need, get out."
"And you think Basch will cooperate?"
"Well, Fran thinks the man won't be too thrilled with all our deception, but with Hammad's behavior now, he may be more malleable to our request. He'll want to help you, Ashe." Balthier grins then. "And it doesn't hurt that he's probably got access to all the bombs and detonators we'd need to blow Giruvegan into the next life."
She nods, hoping that that is the case. If she could see Basch herself and reason with him…but that would be nearly impossible. Balthier and Fran are fine criminals, but trying to sneak her into the palace would be suicidal. At least Draklor is a large facility and few would expect her to turn up there. "Very well. One step at a time."
He looks down at her, and she can feel the heat radiating from him. It has been two days since they've so much as kissed, and now that they have so many hours in the sky, there is little else to do. She feels her heart beating wildly as he crosses the cabin in two steps and kneels behind her. He brushes her hair away from her neck and begins to kiss there while his travel-roughened hands rub her arms. She wants to lean back and lose herself against him, but this isn't the place for it.
"Balthier, this is Fran's cabin," she whispers as he nuzzles the nape of her neck.
His breath is warm against her skin. "She's flying."
"She would be offended."
"She would be," he agrees, not even attempting to budge behind her.
Ashe sighs, realizing that she has been the one to break apart first in almost every instance. She stills his hand and pulls away, gathering up her materials. "Sleeping arrangements?" she inquires quietly.
He stands and helps her to pick up the papers. "Take my bed. I'll make do up front. Not really tired yet, anyhow."
She nods and moves to depart Fran's room until there is a sound of disapproval from behind her. Ashe turns around, the stack of papers and books in her hands nearly toppling. "What?"
Balthier is tapping one of the scrawled-upon pages against his palm. "Ashe, what the hell did you do to my books?"
--
"Do you think Fran will get a meeting with Basch right away? It would be unseemly for a Judge of Archadia to meet with a sky pirate," Ashe argues, wiping her shoe off against the wall. A particularly nasty creature's guts coat the underside of them, and she will be grateful to be out of the cave palace sooner rather than later.
Balthier watches her clean off her shoe with an amused grin. He always manages to emerge from battle with nary a scratch, but she supposes that if she had a gun and not a sword that she would be tidier. "Never underestimate Fran. That's pretty much my life motto," he tells her.
She smiles and continues through the damp cave, descending further and further away from the sunlight. "I thought your motto was that you can't die."
He shrugs and checks the shot in his gun as he trails behind her. "I can have more than one motto, Princess." His long strides enable him to catch up, and all too soon he's walking in step with her close enough for his sleeve to brush against her own. "If anyone can negotiate her way into the innermost chambers of the Judges' Magistracy, it's Fran. Have you seen the way she dresses?"
Ashe sighs. "I almost wish I could swap places with her." She hops quickly over the slimy bones of some long-gone creature. "I hate this place."
Balthier shakes his head. "You don't enjoy my company down here?" He perches the shotgun on his shoulder and puts his other arm around her waist. "This isn't romantic?"
It is growing harder and harder to avoid his attentions. Ashe has not experienced true affection since Rasler's passing, Al-Cid's flirtations aside. She feels almost human again to have another's arm around her, but at the same time, she wonders if she should keep pursuing this. Their situation is precarious, and there isn't time for proper courtship. Not that a relationship with Balthier could really be considered courtship. He is not the marrying kind, nor could she ever see him changing so drastically even for her.
Her mind is consumed with Dalmasca, the Occuria and now Balthier. It is almost enough to drive one insane, even without Gerun's help. If they do destroy the crystal in Giruvegan, she must deal with Hammad. And in the off chance war is avoided, she must then fight to regain the trust of her people. There is little time for a dalliance with a sky pirate, much as she already knows that what she feels is far deeper than anything she's felt before.
"…and I suppose that was when I realized how much I wanted to be a chocobo farmer."
"Hmm?" she asks in confusion, not realizing that Balthier had been trying to speak with her for some time now. His hand has worked its way down to clutch at her hip, and he's probably a bit upset that she hasn't been responding to his advances. She supposes that Balthier is the type to be quite hands-on – his mechanical and thieving skills seem to transfer into his seduction technique.
"You're somewhere else. Talk to me," he says quietly, moving his hand back to her waist in more of a comforting manner than she is used to from him.
She doesn't know what to say. "What is this, Balthier?" she inquires, putting her hand over his. "Why do you bother? I'm a mess. Can't properly govern my country, a fugitive, all of that."
"Why do I bother?" he asks in confusion. "Is this really the time? I thought I made it clear enough what I feel…"
Ashe pulls away and continues to slog through the nasty cave. She waves her arms around. "We've nothing ahead but walking for the next day. Would you rather discuss literature? Or fine wines? Or how we cannot really pursue this?"
He tugs her arm to stop her mid-tantrum and stares at her strangely. "What has gotten into you?"
She looks at her feet. "I don't know, Balthier. I have so much on my mind. Dalmasca, Hammad, Giruvegan…"
"And we'll handle each in turn, I promise you. I'm not going anywhere."
"But you will," she tells him, blurting out something that she knows is true. "If we're fortunate enough to overcome all these obstacles, then we both know what will happen."
"And that is what exactly?"
She feels tears brimming in her eyes, and she hates herself for it. She almost wishes she was made of stone. She'd be a far stronger Queen and would probably not have gotten into this situation in the first place. She would never have dared to fall for a blasted pirate. "You'll leave again. I have you now, on an extended contract like I did before. But when it's over, you'll be gone. You'll be bringing me snow at irregular intervals."
"Ashe, you've always known who I am and what I do. As I know who you are and what you must be." He lifts her chin and forces her to look at him. "But it doesn't change what we feel."
"It doesn't?" She sniffles a bit, feeling like a damned child. "What if I can't bear being without you?"
He chuckles. "You're going to loathe yourself for that remark when you look back on it. I don't ever want to hear you say something stupid like that again. You don't require my constant presence, and you know it."
She is being rather foolish. She was doing quite well as Queen with only scattered appearances from him. Ashe realizes that she'd hardly have time to carry on with him regularly anyhow. "I do enjoy it though."
Balthier smiles and uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "Well, who doesn't enjoy my company?" He embraces her then in the middle of the nasty cave, rubbing small circles on her back. "Stop being a silly girl. We have far more important things to worry about than whether or not I'll be attending all of your ridiculous political functions."
She inhales the strong, familiar scent of him, letting it soothe her despite her lingering anxiety. "But would you?"
"Would I what?"
It is hard to avoid a grin now. "Attend my ridiculous political functions?"
He groans. "Am I allowed to pickpocket the diplomatic envoys?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then we'll have some negotiating to look forward to in due time." He kisses the top of her head and breaks apart from her. She watches him walk ahead, his eyes squinting into the darkness for the next fiend to cross their path. "Come on, Princess. I'm beginning to think we're married with the way we're carrying on, and I simply won't have it."
Ashe feels her spirits renewed slightly, and she cannot stop smiling. No one dares to speak to her the way he does, and she wouldn't let anyone else get away with it. Whatever trials lay ahead, she is glad to have his strength to support her. The thought of Balthier at a formal Dalmascan function is enough to keep her moving through the caves and onward to Old Archades.
