The Atomos comes to the smoothest stop its bulky figure can handle, shuddering into a space in the aerodrome. Most likely, it will be spotted and taken back by the Imperials at some point. Here we have Balthier and Fran's ship waiting on the other side of the station, glimmering, gleaming, and begging to be explored. I shudder at the cool air of the sky city and watch Penelo rush past, curled blonde pigtails bouncing with every step.
"Balthier, your handkerchief," she says in a soft voice, holding up the folded, embroidered cloth the sky pirate handed over before we were taken away to Nalbina. A trip that already feels like it took place months ago. "I thought you might want it back."
"I shall wear it close to my heart," Balthier replies warmly, flashing a charming smile and taking the handkerchief from her open, offering hands. With that, he presses a hand to his chest, gives a slight bow, and shoots Vaan a wink over the swooning girl's shoulder. I glance over at Basch only to be met with tired blue eyes. He opens his mouth to speak when Vossler motions for him to join in on a conversation with Ashe. I sigh, exchanging an exhausted look with Vaan as Balthier saunters closer.
"It would seem they share a serious discussion without us," Fran sighs, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "How disappointing. After all we have done."
"Princesses will be princesses," I shrug, looking back at the trio muttering to each other in exasperation. "At least, if she is who she says she is." Vossler gives a final nod and turns, leaving. Vaan frowns, tilting his head.
"Where's he going?" he asks as Ashe and Basch join us once more.
"He will return," comes the knight's simple reply. "We are to speak with Ondore in the meantime."
I drag myself along behind the others, spear rested on my shoulder as I hold its slender form loosely in my hand. Vaan shouts something about remembering where to go and he takes the lead as Balthier falls back to walk beside Fran. I watch Ashe shoot Basch sidelong glances full of distrust and bitterness every so often. Quite the character, isn't she? Somehow Balthier winds up strolling alongside me, stretching his white-sleeved arms over his head before he watches me with languid eyes.
"Prepared to leave us behind for your rather... tiring endeavors?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. I sigh, shooting him a flat, unamused look.
"I don't know, if I'm to be honest. I find this whole ordeal to be quite interesting." My eyes fall to the sandy pavement. "That, and I have a feeling that won't be the last we see of Larsa." I cock my head to the side, keeping my voice low. "Frankly, this story would be much better if this Ashelia turned out to be a fake."
"Better," he repeats indisbelief, shaking his head.
"And you?" I raise an eyebrow, watching him keep his steady, strong stride as we round corners and weave our way through crowds. "You and Fran seem to move as a separate unit. Why in Ivalice are you still tagging along?"
"I'd like to see how this all plays out," he shrugs, tracing a finger along the pointed, precise edge of his sideburns absently. His eyebrows pull tighter for a split second; seems the pirate found an imperfection. "I find it quite intriguing, this tale. The perfect story for a leading man."
"You and your big head," I huff, rolling my eyes. The sainikah at Ondore's gate grants us entry with a slight bow, nodding for another guard to guide us to the Marquis.
The whole ordeal is far too familiar, what with us waiting hours on end for night to fall before Halim Ondore has time to visit with our party. I spend the time restlessly pacing the room, trying to talk myself out of following this team of rebels. The spotlight is the opposite of what I need. However, this is the perfect device for keeping Jonan away. All seriousness aside, the tale unfolding in the presence of these princesses and knights and churls is quite an interesting one I may like to see a tad more of. Finally, I stretch my sore muscles and move to the Marquis's office to watch Ashe try to convince the stubborn man of her necessities.
"When Vossler learned my father was killed the night of the treaty-signing he returned to Rabanastre to aid my escape," the supposed princess explains, standing tall at the end of the powerful man's smooth desk. "There was still time before Vayne's reach extended too far. We thought you could protect me."
I stand beside Vaan, attempting to recall what I was doing the night of the treaty-signing that went terribly awry. Drinking in celebration with Dern inside the Castean. When I heard the Empire skewed the situation and burned it to bits, not to mention Basch's supposed betrayal, I paced the ship with nothing but a sword and a pistol, muttering threats under my breath. Threats to march into the city on my own and slaughter any of Vayne's men on the spot. I had the hatch thrown wide open before Dern put a quick stop to that with a sleep spell. He was a cruel man to be sure.
"However, when I then made the announcement that you had taken your own life, I must have seemed a model citizen of the Empire," Ondore finishes, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on the desk. "The announcement, you see, was Vayne's suggestion. Of course, at the time, I was reluctant, but I could not perceive his reasons." He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. "Now it is clear: he meant to drive a wedge between us."
"Halim, we are past this," Ashe reminds him, fists balled at her sides. "Bhujerba must stand with us. We can stop Vayne."
Sighing, the Marquis pushes himself to his feet with an efforted grunt. He smooths his yellow and white coat, pointedly looking Ashe in the eye, though his gaze is soft as he speaks.
"I once knew a girl whose only wish was to be carried in her uncle's arms." Ashe stares back defiantly, trying to understand why he brought this specific topic up. "Your Majesty is a woman grown now."
"Then Bhujerba will aid me?"
"Suppose for a moment you were to defeat Vayne... What then?" Ondore asks, pacing with his hands clasped behind his back. "You cannot simply rebuild your kingdom with the only proof of your birthright stolen. Without that, the Gran Kiltias on Bur-Omisace cannot and will not recognize Your Majesty as the rightful heir." Chills ripple across my skin at the mere mention of the holy mountain, my fingers brushing over my armored arm as I recall the sunny temple and scattered market. It's been a long time since I thought of that place. "You may yet be a princess, but without proof of your identity, you are powerless." Ondore turns to face her. "You will remain with me. We do nothing till the time is right." I bite my tongue with a wince. What?!
"I cannot just wait," Ashe replies firmly, fingers pinching at her open white shirt.
"Then what does Your Majesty propose we do?" the Marquis asks sharply.
"Uncle Halim—" Ashe starts, pleading in her voice. There's a long silence before Balthier shrugs, turning to face the Marquis.
"Incidentally, what is the going rate for rescuing princesses these days?" I roll my eyes, though the greed that's long gripped my heart pulls a smile onto my face as he paces, motioning with his hand mindlessly as he talks of reward. I hardly notice Ashe turning away, searching for any source of hope. "Food would be a start—the good stuff, mind you." He sits on the edge of the desk, smirking like an absolute twat.
"This can be arranged, though it will take some time," Ondore replies, watching his niece's back as she walks away, practically trudging through despair.
"Time enough for a bath, I hope. Dirty business, you know," the sky pirate replies, winking. Penelo and Vaan watch the suppressed princess leave, clearly wishing they could help. Basch merely stares into space, frowning. "Ah, best bring a change of clothes too."
"Of course; he soiled his cuffs," I reply, mocking thick in my voice as I shove the pirate with my hip pointedly. He shrugs, merely sparing me a slight smile.
"Those must be washed promptly, I assure you, or I'll be visiting a tailor for the second time this month. That would hardly do. I'm sure you understand."
"Whatever you need," Ondore replies under his breath, waving toward the guards at the back of the room. They nod, motioning for us to follow them. Balthier smiles, nudging me with his elbow.
"You can thank me later."
"I will do no such thing," I scoff, skipping past him and pretending nothing is awry. My chance at escape... My chance to wrap my hands around Vayne's throat... Fates above, how do I get it back? I toss a grin over my shoulder. "I'll be far too busy soaking in the tub."
"I do hope that wasn't an invitation."
"Far from it," I reply, suppressing a shudder. Gods, never.
I peel my eyes open, watching the steam rise off the surface of the hot bath I soak in. My head rests on the back edge of the smooth tub, my knees rising out of the water to fit the rest of my legs. I glance across the rather spacious room to see the stack of freshly cleaned clothes a servant dropped off nearly an hour ago. The steel arm guard on the table nearby glints in the dim lighting of the bathroom. I sigh, looking down at my now bared left arm.
Twisted, reddened scars twist across my skin, translucent in some parts and gnarled into thick knots in others. In some places, it's hardly flesh at all. Crinkling my nose, I drop my arm back into the water and shut my eyes. Who knows how long I've simply soaked here, thinking. The last time I saw Vayne... Gods, he looked so smug. He knew what he was doing when he locked me away in Nalbina. He knew he could get me trapped in this Resistance. Then he'd have even more reason to hunt me down for a public execution. It'd be easier to keep an eye on me. That's all he wanted.
By the time I leave the bathroom, my fingertips are crinkled, my clothes stick to me in odd places, and my wet hair brushes across the seat of my tight black pants. I adjust the lacing on the front of my shirt carefully before opening the common room we were told to meet in after washing up. Wouldn't want to give Basch an aneurysm, now would I? Ashe mopes by herself by the fireplace, kneeling with her hands rested on her thighs. Penelo waves me over and demands that I let her braid my hair. Vaan pushes me down and before long I'm seated cross-legged on the floor before the girl, playing with the plush carpet beneath me.
"It's so long," Penelo muses, giving a sharp tug with her brush. I wince, snapping for her to be careful and earning an amused look from Balthier. The sky pirate lounges across the room with a full stomach, stretched across a pale blue divan. Fran sits at a table nearby, stringing and unstringing her bow with an intense concentration overtaking her scarlet eyes. "There we go!"
"Thanks," I huff, tugging at the tightly wound hair to loosen its grip on my head.
"Hey, that was hard work," she protests weakly, watching me tug a few damp strands of brunette hair free.
"And so's this," I reply nonchalantly. "I can't have it pulled back so tightly if I'm to use it to hide from the general public."
"Hide from the...?"
"Shae's a sky pirate," Vaan reminds her, grinning and sitting across from me. "She's got people after her all the time. She doesn't have a ship right now, so she's gotta hide in the streets, right?"
"I suppose," I breathe, falling backward onto the carpet and clasping my hands behind my head.
"A sky pirate without a ship," Penelo muses, leaning back in her seat and staring at Ashe's back. "Almost like a princess without proof." Basch shoots her a dry look and I flinch.
"What happened to your ship anyway?" Vaan asks. I can't see him past my raised knees; I shrug and close my eyes.
"She doesn't work anymore."
"Well yeah. But why?"
"Does it matter?" I reply coolly.
"Yes?" I frown up hearing his voice so close. "You're a sky pirate. Shouldn't you care about your ship?" I open my eyes to see the boy's face looming over mine with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Huffing, I shove him away and sit up.
"Of course I care. I don't see why you should, though. It's my ship; leave it be."
"Fine," he scoffs, standing up to pace around the room. Finally, he turns to face me, hands rested on the red wrap covering his hips. "At least tell me her name."
"The Castean," I mutter, reaching a hand up to ruffle my hair a bit more as it dries. Penelo sighs, watching her handiwork come undone.
"The Castean, you say?" Balthier sits up, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Why that name?"
"It was the name of someone my partner knew, or so he said," I shrug with a nonchalant wave, staring hard into his green eyes defiantly. "The name of someone from Archades, I believe. He liked it, and when he suggested it, I decided I liked it as well. Does that answer your question or must I elaborate?"
"I suppose it does." The sky pirate turns to Ashe. "Are you planning to stay here, Princess? It may be wise to take your uncle's advice."
"I'll do what I see fit," she snaps, pushing herself to her feet. "And while I search for the answer, you lot continue in your greed and your foolishness." With that, she turns on her heels and heads for the dark doors closing us in here together. Basch moves to follow and she glares at him. "Stay." He sits back down. As the doors thud closed, I stifle a laugh.
"Good boy," I mock under my breath. Basch scowls, turning his eyes back to the fire.
"I'm gonna go see how she's doing," Vaan says, walking toward the doors.
"You saw just now," Balthier points out lazily, popping another plump grape into his mouth. "I will have to make a point of rescuing more princesses in the future. It seems the reward truly pays off."
"In food," I scoff, standing to pace the room.
"Yes, although gil can be a handsome reward at the best of times," he continues, adjusting the cuffs of his puffy white sleeves. "One should look the part when playing both the respectable pirate and the—"
"The leading man, we know." I stop by an expansive window and stare out into the night sky. Larsa... Where are you? The thought of Vayne turning on his beloved brother any moment because of his assistance... It gives me goosebumps. A shiver spills down my spine. There's something else to Larsa and his help. He has an idea trapped in that smart head little of his and he wants to see it put into play before Vayne catches it. Perhaps it's already too late.
"I'm so tired," Penelo yawns, stretching her arms over her head and drawing her legs up into the chair.
"And I'm curious," Balthier murmurs, getting to his feet and heading toward the door.
"About?" I ask, turning and following at a slower pace.
"You'll just have to see."
"Fine by me. I'm bored."
I follow him down the hall and into a smaller room with two large beds. His and Fran's quarters no doubt. Frowning, I watch as he opens his window, peering down at the ground before he turns back to raise an eyebrow.
"I suppose the guards won't let us by freely."
"Running away already?" I tease, joining him at the window. The drop is long, but the collection of balconies and platforms could easily break a fall. "Seems awfully cheap for a leading man."
"Quite the contrary," he replies, swinging out of the window and dropping down to the next level. I sigh, looking around the room once more before curiosity gets the best of me. What would Ondore do? Lock us in our rooms like naughty children? "The princess had a look about her when she left and I don't believe it was one of fair play."
"I doubt many people have the look of fair play," I scoff, waiting for him to swing over the rail of the balcony and drop to the second floor.
"I doubt you're the observant type."
"Look at you," I huff, finally feeling the solid stone of the pathway underneath my boots. "Being right for once."
"As I said: rather unobservant."
Balthier slips past a guard's back easily; I dive across the path to hide in the shadows once more. Once we've slipped past the guard, we're free to run. I realize we're headed for the aerodrome as we sprint past the tavern and the market district. He thinks Ashe flew away? Shrugging, I keep up the pace. We slow once we reach the entrance to the port, careful not to draw any attention.
Balthier heads for his ship, leading the way into the dim docking station. I take a deep breath, enjoying the smells and sights of the port. It's been far too long. The Strahl looks in perfect condition, glistening under the dim lights shining from the aerodrome. However, the dim glow of the cabin catches my eye.
"Of course she did," Balthier says under his breath. The ship's hatch is already wide open, most likely a result of the princess's rush.
"Her solution was to steal the Strahl?" I raise an eyebrow, following him inside. Even far away from the cockpit, I can hear Ashe and Vaan arguing. Balthier motions for me to stay close to the opposite wall, in the shadows and out of sight as we stand outside the control center.
"This is something that I have to do! Not only for myself but for all those who have fallen." Ashe snaps, swiveling around in the pilot's seat. "I will not be made to hide!" She sighs, turning back to face the dashboard of dials, buttons, and pressure meters. "I'll fight alone if I must."
"You still have Basch, right?" Vaan asks, walking closer toward her. "Besides, you can't just go around stealing people's ships. What are you trying to do?" The princess leaps to her feet, fists balled at her sides as she raises her voice.
"I'm trying to concentrate!"
"That's quite enough, Your Majesty." I turn to see Balthier leaning across the doorway, holding an intercom speaker to his lips a sly smile. "What do you think? A bit over the top?" He turns the microphone off, turning the square device over in his hand. "In my line of work, you never know when something like this might come in handy." He presses a button on the side, mocking Ashe as her last proclamation plays back to her. "I'm trying to concentrate!" He puts the speaker back in its place on the wall, stepping into the cockpit. I stand in the doorway, arms crossed.
"I'm leaving you with the Marquis," Balthier says firmly, staring the princess down.
"You can't!" Ashe cries, pushing Vaan out of her way.
"Trust me, you're better off staying here," Balthier replies dismissively, turning to leave.
"Going toe to toe with Vayne would be the last thing you want to do," I add, shrugging. "Balthier's right, as much as I hate to admit it." Ashe shakes her head, stomping her shoe against the floor.
"Suppose you kidnapped me instead?"
Balthier freezes and I can tell he's seriously considering it. Sighing, I shake my head as the princess continues, seeing her words have caught his ear.
"You're a sky pirate, aren't you? Then steal me. Is that so much to ask?"
"Speaking in stereotypes," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
"What do you have that I would want?" Balthier asks cautiously, his eyes flitting up to mine as he listens.
"The Dynast-King's treasure," she replies, brows set firmly together. "The Dawn Shard is but one of the riches that lie waiting in King Raithwall's tomb." Balthier whistles, turning around to face her. Perhaps they won't mind if I tag along and retrieve that treasure for myself, then... It could get Jonan off my back, at least.
"King Raithwall, you say?" Balthier repeats. Someone pushes me further into the room.
"Kidnapping royalty is a serious offense," Basch warns. "It won't do much to lower the bounty on your head."
"How much is the price on your head these days, I wonder?" the pirate counters.
"Bounty, shmounty," I laugh, resting one elbow on Basch's shoulder and the other on Balthier's. "Let's kidnap us a princess!" The knight sighs, pulling away from my touch to speak with Ashe.
"You're in, then?" Balthier asks, eyeing the armored arm on his shoulder distastefully.
"Guess I'll stick around a bit longer," I shrug, flashing a grin. I keep my voice low as I draw closer. "Besides," I mutter, "I need to pay Jonan back eventually. Opportunity calls." He nods and I give him his space as Fran and Penelo enter. The viera looks over at Vaan.
"Will you be joining us?"
"What, are you kidding?" the blonde demands, already draped over a seat. "I don't wanna stick around this place"
"Then I'm coming too," Penelo announces, throwing herself into the seat behind him.
"Penelo!"
"Don't leave me here!"
"Of course not." Vaan gives in with a sigh.
"Then it's settled," Fran nods, placing her hand on the doorframe gently as a slight smirk tugs on her lips. "We should leave before the Marquis realizes she's missing, like proper kidnappers."
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SORRY FOR THE ULTRA LATE UPDATE. THEATRE PEOPLE UNDERSTAND: SHOW WEEK IS ABSOLUTE CHAOS.