ON YOUR WINGS

chapter twelve: no rest for the wicked


She's been wishing for it so badly she hasn't even allowed herself to think about it. When it finally hits her it does so with all the force of the Bahamut sinking to the sand- all that times ten-and there is a moment, an interminable moment, when she finds that she simply cannot breathe. Like the air in her lungs has gone up in a flash fire and all that's left is a persistent burning.

Because she knows why she's been so unsettled. So lightly strained and anxious. This whole time, from the very beginning, she's been waiting for Vaan to show up, to say that he was wrong and that he's missed her and that there's no way, no way that sky pirating is more important to him than spending his life with her.

And it's not going to happen. That's not who he is. She knows who is is better than anybody. Better than he does, even. As long as she doesn't think about it, she can pretend otherwise. That she doesn't know, that maybe he has grown up to be the person she feels like she desperately needs him to be, but now she is thinking about it and she can't stop.

She's at an outdoor concert and everything is light and colorful and Margarethe is telling her something that she can't understand, because all of a sudden all she can understand, all she can process is that there's a hole in her heart, so big and so heavy it's like a star gone supernova and it's slowly pulling the rest of her in.

And she doesn't mean to lie. She doesn't mean to trick them, but she knows she can't be here anymore. Can't go back to the palace. She needs to go somewhere else. Somewhere she won't be looking for him, waiting for him, expecting him. So she asks Margarethe to dance, and as a particularly energetic number starts up, Penelo twists and twirls and slips away.


When she got there, she couldn't have told anyone exactly what had propelled her to Old Archades. Vaan hated it there, that she knew. More than anything else in the rest of Archades, he hated the smell and he wouldn't have any reason to be there. She could rest assured that she wouldn't be craning her head looking after every blonde boy walking by, hoping that Vaan had come to find her.

So she wandered aimlessly for a bit, half-covering her nose and just glad to be away from anyone she had to talk to. She felt numb and wanted to walk away her sadness, imagined it drifting down and out through her feet, filtering into the ground as she stepped and stepped. Old Archades was a sad place after all.

Something flashed in the corner of her eye and she turned quick, hand closing on her dagger. Down the way a boy was running away from a larger man swinging a whip and she recognized him suddenly as the boy that they'd found in Tsenoble just the day before. The man swung his whip and without even a second thought Penelo rushed forward.

There was a scream. But realistically she had no way of knowing whether it had come from her or from someone else. The back of her arm burned. Her shoulder burned. But she sprang up, holding her knife at the ready. The boy was stunned on the stones behind her.

"Dumb bitch!" the man shouted. "Get out of the way!"

He raised the whip again and Penelo had a moment to think about how mad Larsa was going to be if he found out she'd run off to Old Archades when he'd specifically told her not to and gotten whipped in the street by some random thug. It wasn't something she wanted to think about. She caught the boy's eye with hers and nudged him with her leg.

They were about to run when a thin woman ran, screeching, at the man holding the whip. "Don't you touch him!" she screamed.

Penelo was startled. Startled because it was like she'd come out of nowhere and startled because she realized that she recognized her. The man threw her to the ground. "Stupid whore!" Raised up the whip again and now it was Penelo's turn to tackle him. She rushed at him, angling the handle of her knife into his ribcage and they bowled over onto the ground.

The air rushed out of him and she sprang up, grabbing the whip as she did so.

"Get the hell out of here," she said, standing away from him as he caught his breath.

He glared at her as he pulled himself to his feet slowly, gasping. "I won't forget this," he said, shaking a finger at her before he spat on the ground and hobbled away.

A small crowd had gathered around them, though no one moved forward to offer any help. Penelo was bleeding where she'd been whipped and angry welts were rising up where she'd been hit. The woman was getting up off the ground and the boy had run to her. "Mom!"

"Conor, you had me worried sick..."

She looked him over to make sure he was ok, checking his head, his arms. Once she was certain that he was fine, she hugged him and looked over his head. "Penelo?" she asked. "It can't be..."

"Alma... it's... it's been long."


When they were young they danced.

Penelo remembers flowing red-gold hair, a playful flashing smile. Steps done in unison to applause and donations. Through droughts, through the plague, through everything.

Everything except the Invasion.

She remembers seeing the Imperials march through Rabanastre. She remembers Reks grabbing her arm and telling her, "Don't dance. Don't you let anybody see you dance."

And she remembers not understanding why, in such a sad time, she can't do the one thing that has always made her happy.

"Penelo," he says. "Trust me."

She does. Like he's her own brother. They sell away all her dancing clothes for food and when she hears music, she turns her head. She sees Alma less and less, but for a while her smile is holding steady.

Then it dims, and it dims, and then...

Then Penelo doesn't see her at all.


"You lot are insane," a man said as he walked out of the crowd, "Picking fights with Durin, what are you thinking?"

He helped Alma up and it seemed like everyone is trying to talk all at once.

"He was chasing the boy-"

"He whipped Conor-"

"Oryn he wanted to hurt Mom-"

The man shook his head and picked up Penelo's arm to get a better look at her shoulder. "Everyone's got a few bumps and scrapes, but this seems to be the most serious wound."

Penelo was about to tell him that it was nothing she couldn't take care of herself, but he turned away from her and motioned to Alma. "Come on, let's get you patched up."

Alma and the boy, who Penelo figured must be Conor, seemed to trust the man. Penelo followed along with them, keeping a hand on her dagger and an eye on the streets.

"Have to admit I've never seen you around here," Oryn said. It took Penelo a moment to realize he was talking to her.

"I'm from Rabanastre," she said. "I'm just here visiting a friend."

Oryn raised an eyebrow. "Alma?"

"I didn't even know she was here," Alma said. "I haven't seen you since..." her voice trailed away.

"The war," Penelo said, casting a glance at Oryn. He had a muscular build that reminded her of Basch somewhat. Strong sword arm. He must've been a soldier.

"Terrible business, that was," Oryn said, brushing it off.

He knocked against an old wooden door a few times and someone inside opened it for them. "After you," he said, gesturing Penelo, Alma, and Conor in. They all walked in and he shut and barred the door behind them.

There was a girl, maybe a little younger than Margarethe already inside. "Oryn, what happened?" she asked.

"Alma and Conor ran into a spot of trouble with Durin," Oryn replied. "I assume this brave young lady dashed to their rescue?"

Penelo opened her mouth to protest, "He was going to wh-"

But Conor cut her off. "She did," he said. "And she saved me the other day in Tsenoble too."

"Tsenoble," Oryn repeated. "Explains the clothes. Did you get lost, miss ...?"

"Penelo," she said. "It's just Penelo. I was taking a walk, that's all."

"Funny place to take a walk, let me see that arm- Anyra I need some magicite."

"We're low," the girl said. "Oryn she looks like she has money you can't just-"

"Anyra," he said. "When did my cousin become so stingy, I wonder?"

"I have money," Penelo said, digging into her coin purse. "I have some gil and a chop." She tossed the bag over to Anyra. "Have it."

Anyra's eyes bugged at the offer. "It's just a small bit of magicite," she said, "It's hardly enough to cast a Cure... that's too much."

"See what you've done?" Oryn said, taking the magicite from his cousin. "Now you've let the lady overpay."

"It was money that I was given," Penelo said, almost ashamed to admit it. "Nothing that I earned."

Alma's eyes widened and she moved over to cover Conor's ears before hissing at Penelo, "Not you, Penny. Please tell me you're not...?"

It took a moment for Penelo to understand what the other woman was concerned about, but when she finally did it floored her. "Alma," she said, shaking her head, "No."

Meanwhile Oryn was working on her arm. The charm he cast was serviceable, but the magicite was of a lower quality and he seemed to not have trained extensively in healing magicks. Nonetheless she felt some relief in her arm and her back. It would definitely need a second looking at when she got back to the palace.

Alma backed into a chair and pulled Conor close to her. "Gods," she said. "I nearly thought... but of course you would never... oh Penny, so much has happened since the last time I saw you. What friends could you possibly have in Archades?"

Penelo didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to ask. Something terrible had obviously happened to Alma to bring her to Old Archades. Who knew how long she had been living there? And meanwhile Penelo would say what? That she was a personal guest of the emperor. That she honestly hadn't really thought much about the other girl in years?

"She was with another fancy lady," Conor said. "They had maids and a guard."

"You must have important friends," Oryn said. He smiled at Conor. "Looks like the lady still needs a bit of bandaging though. Why don't you come with me?"

Penelo got the feeling that he wanted to talk to her, so she nodded and followed him to a small back room. He shut the door behind them, then pulled down a clean cloth from a shelf and wrapped her welts with it.

"Look," he began. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you do. I don't know who you know or why you know them, but I will tell you this: if you have any pull at all with these noble friends of yours... if you can do anything at all to get Alma some kind of position as a maid or... something. After what you lot pulled with Durin this place is going to be hell for her and the boy if they stay."

"That was the man with the whip," Penelo said. "Who is he?"

"He sells women," Oryn replied, his voice flat. "Drugs. Whatever he can get his hands on. Generally a sorry, violent excuse for a human being and he has friends. A whole gang that'll be out looking for those two come sundown."

"You're not afraid?" Penelo asked.

"Miss, I just run a simple health clinic that can't even heal a whipped Dalmascan," Oryn said. Penelo's eye caught a glint of steel in the dim light and she knew that there was more to the story.

"You used to live in Tsenoble," Penelo stated.

"Trant, actually," Oryn replied. "Lovely guess though. You're as patched up as I can get you. Would you like an escort back to the more civilized reaches of Archadian society?"

"I... thank you," Penelo said.

"Thank you," Oryn said. "For taking that lash for the boy. Not many would have done the same."

"Is he..." Penelo almost hesitated to ask. "Is he your son."

"No," Oryn shook his head. "Nephew. It's a complicated thing, Miss. I would appreciate it if you would refrain from mentioning me to your noble friends."

"It's just Penelo," she said. "You don't need to call me Miss."

"All right, Miss," Oryn replied with a teasing smile. He helped her out of her seat and walked her to the door.

"I'll be taking the young lady back to the gate. You all stay here and stay safe while I'm gone," Oryn said to Alma, Conor, and Anyra.

They nodded at him and Penelo said her goodbyes as well before they left.

The pair hadn't gone very far before Penelo caught sight of Cyrus and two legionnaires combing the streets for her. Oryn cursed under his breath as Cyrus caught sight of them. The Judge motioned for the two legionnaires to stay behind and approached Penelo and her escort.

"You," Cyrus said, addressing Oryn and ignoring Penelo for the moment.

"The boy failed to mention that your guard was a Judge," Oryn said to Penelo. "So you must be a guest of the Imperial House?"

"That is none of your concern," Cyrus said, taking Penelo's arm.

"Long time no see, Cyrus," Oryn said and Penelo was mildly surprised that they knew each other, although she felt that she shouldn't have been. She'd already guessed Oryn was a soldier after all. "You seem to have been doing well."

"For old time's sake," Cyrus said, "And just this once: I didn't see you."

Oryn nodded. "That's fair," he said. "Thank you." He disappeared down an alley as Penelo and Cyrus went to rejoin the legionnaires.

"That man," Penelo said. "How do you know him?"

"We served together," Cyrus said. "He and his cousin are currently fugitives. For the murder of his brother. If you are kind, you will perhaps not mention this to Lord Larsa."

Penelo's eyes narrowed at this new information.

Complicated, he'd called it. In light of this, that seemed an understatement.


Back at the Imperial Palace, Trish was nowhere to be found and Larsa was very clearly upset with her. He was more worried about the bandages on her arm though and seemed to not know quite what to say.

"Penelo," he tried. "I'm so glad you're all right. What were you thinking? What's happened to your arm?"

It all came in a jumble a little faster than she'd expected and certainly faster than she could respond to. "We'll get her patched up," Augusta said, bustling Penelo away and saving them both. "Perhaps she will meet your for tea after?"

"Yes," Larsa said, nodding them away, "Please."

Penelo saw Larsa talking to Cyrus and wondered what they were saying. Augusta interrupted her train of thought.

"You gave Lord Larsa quite the scare. When he'd heard you disappeared he nearly had a fit. Lady Margarethe did not fare much better."

"I apologize," Penelo said. "I hadn't meant to..."

"And what did you think would come of you sneaking away the way you did? Lord Larsa nearly though Lady Margarethe had been a part of the whole scheme, the poor girl was mortified."

Penelo shut her eyes, embarrassed. "Oh Gods," she said, "I really hadn't meant... Are they all right? I'll explain to Larsa it was all my fault."

"It became obvious quite quickly that you'd snuck off on your own," Augusta said. "Besides we all know that Lady Margarethe is not the sort to engage in that kind of irresponsible mischief."

Deserved as it was, the insult stung. "I wasn't thinking," Penelo said. "It was..."

"Selfish. Childish, one might say, though I would never say such things about a guest of the Emperor."

She was saying it though. Because Penelo was not a lady, had not acted like a lady, had not respected that the palace staff was going out of their way to take care of her, that a Judge got pulled off his normal duty to watch her, that legionnaires had to be sent out to find her, and that Larsa. Gods, Larsa.

"I'm such an idiot," Penelo said. "I shouldn't have... I'm so sorry."

"We all do silly things when we're young," Augusta said, noticing that Penelo was genuinely sorry. "And I'm not the person you should be apologizing to."

There it was, back to Larsa. Larsa who had done so much for her. She had repaid him by making him worry, by asking him favors, and here she was prepared to ask another one.

That reminded her. Sundown.

"Miss Augusta," Penelo said suddenly, "Is it all right if- I need to talk to Lord Larsa as soon as possible."

"We need to get you patched up first, Miss Penelo," Augusta replied.

"It's nothing," Penelo replied, "Just a scratch. Please, Miss Augusta, it's important."

The older woman took in the flecks of dried blood on Penelo's clothes and the hint of urgency in her voice.

"All right," she said. "I'll walk you to Lord Larsa's study then. But you've no right to blame me if it scars."


When Penelo entered the study, Larsa stood up immediately alarmed.

"Penelo!" he exclaimed. "Your arm. Why have you not-"

"I will," she cut him off. "It's not a serious wound, I promise, but..." she paused here and shut her eyes. "Larsa I'm so sorry, but I need to ask you a favor."

"Of course," he said, rounding the table to take gentle hold of her elbows. "What do you need?"

"Do you have any room for a maid in the palace?" she asked.

"A maid?" Larsa repeated, his forehead scrunching. "I suppose so. I apologize, I don't quite understand- Penelo, you are a guest, you do not have to work here and you can stay for as long as you wish..."

"Not for me," Penelo shook her head. "I saw an old friend in old Archades. She and her son are in trouble with a gang there and they need to leave by tonight."

"I can send legionnaires to collect them straight away. Would Judge Cyrus recognize your friend?"

"He knows the boy," Penelo said. "I can go with them-"

"No," Larsa replied, his voice stern and flat. "I do apologize Penelo, but while you are my guest I would much prefer it if you could refrain from putting yourself in such risky situations."

"Larsa," she said. "You know what I do for a living."

He raised an eyebrow and this surprised her a little. She almost wished she could take the statement back. After the whole business with the Red Lady and with how smart Larsa was. How could he not suspect? "Do I?" he asked.

"Larsa," Penelo said, still unused to the authority he had in their relationship. To the way someone younger than her could be so commanding.

"It will be taken care of, I promise you," he said. "Now please, see my physician about your shoulder. I'll be waiting for you."

Penelo realized that the final word on the matter had been said. All she could do was nod and say. "Thank you. I'm... I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."

"Please try not to do so in the future," Larsa replied. "I was worried."


Worried had not been the half of it. Only Bellamy's clear sense and Judge Cyrus's strong feeling that Penelo had run off on her own had prevented him from deploying the whole army in search of her.

He'd been disappointed too, unable to understand what could possibly possess her to take off that way. That he knew, he'd been nothing but attentive as a host, had provided her with everything she could have needed. If she'd wanted to go for a walk it would have been such a simple thing for her to let someone know before going.

So when she showed up again, clean and healed and dressed in new clothes, it was hard for him not to feel a little resentful. He wondered if it was lingering jealousy from when she'd admitted her feelings for Vaan and hoped that he was not the sort of person who would be so petty about something that had been so obvious.

She sat down to tea with him and the first words out of her mouth were, "Gods, Larsa, I'm so sorry for everything. I didn't mean to cause anyone trouble and I should have been more considerate."

He kept his face still as he worked out what to say. She looked perfectly remorseful and he very nearly wanted to forgive her for the whole thing right there, but there were questions he needed to ask and to ask carefully if he wanted real answers.

There were times when Larsa had occasion to notice the way that his political life crept slowly and inevitably into his personal life. Moments, like this one, where he took the same attitude toward a conversation with an acquaintance that he would to a conversation with politicians, Judges, accountants.

He wondered briefly whether that should worry him. Penelo noticed him doing it, he thought. She always seemed to crawl into herself a little-to become more unsure around him as though he were some strange authority figure and not one of her best friends.

"Penelo..." he began. "Forgive me, but I am still having trouble understanding why you would run off that way? Surely you know, that if you really wished to visit Old Archades I would have provided you with an appropriate guard. I would not have forbidden that you go."

"I know," Penelo said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking-I was just... I was sad all of a sudden." The last part came out in a rush that Larsa understood meant that it had been difficult for her to admit. "I just couldn't be where I was any more. I didn't even think about where I was going or about you or Margarethe or anybody and I just... I'm not used to having to tell people where I'm going. I mean, I'm not used to anybody caring about..."

When she trailed off, Larsa knew that the conversation would soon be about Vaan. "I care about where you are," Larsa said. "Always. Whether you're here or elsewhere, you know this."

"I do," she admitted. "I... thank you." She took his hands in hers and her eyes locked with his. In this light, they looked almost amber. "For being such a good friend to me. I don't know that I've ever done anything to deserve it."

"You have been a good friend as well," Larsa said. "Though confusing at times."

"I know," she replied. "It was so stupid, but... I don't know. Do you know what it's like yet? When you love somebody so much and the only thing in the world that you want is for them to just love you the same way and they just... don't?"

The sheer irony of it almost stole his breath. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or to scream or to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her. None of those things was an option, though, so he just squeezed her hand back.

"Maybe this time apart is good for you," he said, fighting to keep his tone neutral. "Have you not been happy here?"

She looked as though she didn't know what to say to this. She seemed to be giving it some serious thought, before her face brightened. "I have been," she said, almost wonderingly. "It's been nice, staying with you."

"I cannot begin to imagine what it must seem like for you, always on that airship together," Larsa began, holding her gaze. "But I assure you, Vaan is not the only man in your life."

There was something different in the way that she looked at him after he said that. As though he had turned into a whole different person that she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with.

"I...I know," she said, though her voice made it sound like she hadn't quite.

The conversation wound to other things, but he could not help but note that she was more careful about the way she touched him, that she seemed to think just a little bit more before she spoke to him.

And finally, when he insisted on kissing her on the cheek before they parted for the night, her face went red and her breath caught in her throat just a bit and she couldn't quite seem to look him in the eye.


CHAPTER THIRTEEN PREVIEW:

What is obvious


NOTES: My new computer doesn't have Microsoft Office on it, so editing these things is a little bit challenging. There are things I know I love about this chapter and things I know I hate about it, but they are very difficult to look at. Please let me know what you guys think!


THANK YOU!

Crow Skywalker: I know! I think the end of this chapter is sort of the start of her getting it though. More in the next one, definitely.

Ariels Lament: Dang, I guess we never talked about her birthday. I think I had it set for June and there was a section where I was going to write about it, but I think I cut it. I'll go back and take a look at it. It was sort of an oversight because there were other things going on in the plot, but I can see where, if we're keeping such good track of Larsa's birthdays we should also be keeping track of Penelo's. Definitely something I'll work out and probably edit back in later and include in the future. I think that in this section, it's coming up again. But I think I also skipped one or two.

Marta: I think they just made up names TBH. That game was pretty fun though :D

ZoraAngel: TOTALLY CHOCOBO LAKE! HOW DID YOU KNOW? lol. Mindreaders.