~6 months before~
I sigh, chewing my lip and tossing my messy brunette hair from my eyes, staring long and hard at the drawing before me. A rough depiction of my cabin, blankets wrinkled and strewn across two shadowed figures. One, Dern, lays on his back, head rested on the arms behind his head. Half of his bare chest is exposed before disappearing beneath the covers. My own slim figure is curled up to the left, head rested on his collarbone. Light shines in through the narrow window to the room, indicating that we've slept in well past noon. Four feet stick out from underneath the heavy blanket, legs tangled from the ankles up. The best depiction I can create based on what I imagine this perspective looks like.
Setting the sketchbook to the side, I stand from my seat at my smooth desk and stretch to release the tense hunch in my muscles. Dern should be back any minute now, returning from trading in a smaller Dalmascan town I have yet to visit. Apparently, he thinks the village will be safer since the Imperials will most likely pay less attention there. I hope he's right.
Restless, I leave my cabin and wander down the hallway to his room. I open the door, taking a deep breath. Even after all these years, he carries the distinct scent of Archadia. Most likely that cologne he insists on wearing daily. I laugh to myself, shaking my head. Truly a city boy. Curious, I sit in the wooden chair at his desk and reach toward a drawer. I glance toward the doorway, paranoid, before pulling the bin open. Inside lies his revolver, extra bullets, and an x-potion. No surprises there. I move to the drawer beneath that.
I almost cringe at the stack of my own handiwork sitting in the bottom, a pile of drawings he's collected from me over the past year and a half. None are plans for the Castean. He supposedly keeps those in a special folder. On top of the sketches rests an empty potion bottle and a pair of rubies the size of my palms. Wonder why we haven't sold those yet.
Closing the drawer, I lean back in his seat, kicking my feet up on his desk. Frowning at an odd pressure, I sit straight again, pulling the journal under my boot out and leafing through the pages. I smile upon seeing my name too many times to count and open the last entry in hopes of seeing something to boost my ego. What I read, however, has my heart sinking and my breath caught in my throat.
"I received a letter from an odd courier yesterday. More of an envelope full of papers, honestly. I was hesitant to open it, but I did so after sending Shae away to test the new engine model I'm developing. The letter is full of records of where Shae and I have been for the past six months. In the back, there's a threat from someone in House Solidor (Vayne, no doubt). If Shae is not turned over within two weeks, he will find us and take her away himself. To some fate worse than death, I fear.
"The letter continued to tell me where the Imperials would be expecting me or Shae to be turned in, listed the amount of gold being offered. I refuse to let this go any farther than Vayne has already driven it. No, I fear they may find us all too soon. Today I make for the village where the Imperials will be; it's a heavily occupied section of land. Today I turn myself in.
"Shae, my love, if you were clever (or curious) enough to search my journal for my whereabouts, I beg you not to worry. Do not head for the capital, as I doubt they will bring me there for fear of being predictable. I have my own way out. All I need is for you to run and hide where Archadia will never find you. Merely await my return in patience."
The journal falls onto the desk with a thud, my hands trembling as I grip the edge of the wood. He turned himself in… Made sure he was caught… To throw them off? So they could torture him relentlessly for information he didn't have? I shake my head, my mouth dry as I try to swallow my dread. We could have escaped together. We've always done this together. Why did he…?
I stand up so abruptly Dern's chair clatters to the floor behind me. He'd be long gone by now. My stomach turns. I hurry toward the cockpit of my ship, starting her up and flying her away within minutes. The further I run, the sicker I feel. Where do I go?
The stubborn spirit festering inside me begs for me to turn back, to hunt Dern down. The reasonable side suggests that Dern has a plan and that I should wait it out—for now. I slam my fist onto the side of the dashboard, throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling. I don't understand, Dern. Why? Why you?
It's been days since we left Bur-Omisace. In the midst of fighting wildlife, searching for anything edible, and disagreeing on an array of directions, we've all hopped onto our last nerve. Last night, Ashe snapped and shouted at Vaan for drowning the fire out whilst trying to learn a water spell. Basch hardly speaks anymore, Fran looks ready to stab everyone in their sleep, and the last time I spoke to Balthier, I threatened to shove my spear up his ass if he said another word.
As I said, we're on our last nerves.
At this rate, we've just passed the outskirts of Rabanastre after dragging ourselves through the sweltering sands all day. The heat is still far more welcoming than the freezing air of Bur-Omisace, though. My chocobo keeps pecking Penelo's and Ashe's is half asleep. All this to carry myself back to the land I loathe, the very cityI ran from at the age of fourteen… it's all a bad omen to me.
"I think we should bathe tonight," Penelo suggests, breaking the silence.
"You think?" I scoff, nodding to the snoozing thief resting against my back. "I know. Your friend here smells worse than a soured pile of onions."
"Her friend?" Basch repeats, raising an eyebrow. "As I recall, you two are hardly ever apart."
"He's the only somewhat bearable one here," I shrug. "Sorry."
"Somewhat?" Vaan grumbles, peeling his face off my shoulder and tightening his arms around my waist. "You better like me a lot better soon cuz we're bird-buddies."
"Bird buddies?" Penelo laughs, squealing when my chocobo snaps at hers. "Hey!"
"He's got the same attitude as his rider," Balthier points out, smiling at my scowl.
"I've never bitten you."
"Not yet, anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand. He only shrugs, winking at Ashe. She sighs, shaking her head.
"Are we to reach Nalbina soon?"
"Soon enough," Balthier says. He glances back at me, Vaan, and Basch. "We have some rather remarkable memories from their dungeons."
"Definitely," I mutter, picking the pace back up on my chocobo until I'm next to Ashe. Keeping my voice, I lean a little closer toward her. "I apologize for asking, but why didn't you take Al-Cid's offer?"
"His offer of protection?"
"The offer to quell the rebels that are driving this whole thing mad."
"I must use the Sword of Kings to destroy the Dusk Shard," she replies simply. "We went through all the trouble to retrieve it and I have to see this through to the end." I roll my eyes and she frowns.
"And this isn't some issue of revenge?" I give her no time to respond, shaking my head. "Forget I asked—this whole thing's a suicide mission of vengeance."
"And what if it's all revenge?" she replies sharply. "You've no idea of the cruelty and utter madness of Vayne Solidor. If you're against it, why did you come?" There's a pause and Vaan shifts behind me.
"You didn't show her the scars, did you?" he asks. My only reply is a sigh. Ashe frowns.
"Scars? The ones the nu mou on Bur-Omisace spoke of?"
"His name was Malachaius," I mutter. "And no, not those ones; those are merely burns."
"Vayne carved the Solidor family crest into her side with a knife," Vaan blurts. The princess pauses, Basch staring at me in utter silence. Huffing, I throw my elbow back into Vaan's ribs. Balthier sighs.
"Way to sugarcoat it, Vaan."
"What? She was beating around the bush," he shrugs. "Pretty sure he carved some words in, too. Something about not forgetting what you did."
"Vaan, I swear to the Fates," I growl, elbowing him again. He ignores me.
"He also tricked her into killing two of her best friends and he somehow killed her partner, too."
Before I can make my own response, Balthier swoops in and tugs on the back of the boy's shirt, sending him toppling down into the sand, sputtering. I laugh, shaking my head; Balthier chuckles and accepts my nod of thanks.
"You got it wrong!" I call over my shoulder as Vaan tries to catch up on foot. "It says 'Never forget from whence you came,' thief."
"Guys!"
"Don't you think we should go back for him?" Ashe asks, looking back at him anxiously. Balthier shakes his head.
"Eyes ahead, Princess."
Ashe and I face forward, noticing the incoming shape of Nalbina. Sighing, I snap my chocobo's reins and charge toward civilization, the others hot on my heels. Finally, the desert sun stops beating on my back as I pull into the shade of the fortress. Ashe reminds us that this is only a short stop to replenish our curatives and buy some food for the trip and we break off in hopes of finding something useful.
I slip the bag of animal bits under my sash and head straight to the market. The crystals and scales and pelts sell for well over two thousand gil. I tuck the money away and turn to leave the bazaar, only to crash right into someone's chest.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, I wasn't watching where I—Jonan?"
"I told you I'd be on the move," the young man shrugs, flashing that winning grin. "What say you pay ahead of time? The new month's on the verge of starting."
"Not here," I huff, taking hold of his tanned arm and pulling him through the market behind me. I pass by Basch, earning a confused glance, but nothing more. Finally, free from the crowds, we stop outside a tavern and I spill five hundred gil into my palm before handing it over. He laughs, taking hold of the money and pressing his chapped lips to my forehead.
"Many thanks, dearest. What are you doing out here?"
"What say I explain it over a bottle of a madhu?" I suggest. He chuckles, brushing his golden hair back and winking a bright blue eye.
"I'll return shortly, Shae. Don't go anywhere."
"I'm not going anywhere," I shake my head, sitting on a wooden crate and crossing my legs. Satisfied, he nods and disappears for hardly a moment. Just as I start picking at the splinters in the wood, the pirate returns with two slim green bottles. Sitting beside me, he hands me my drink.
"I better be reimbursed for this," Jonan hints, nudging my side. Rolling my eyes, I press a gold coin into the boy's palm and take a swig from my bottle. "Now, the answer?"
"We're on a journey to return to Archadia," I mutter, swishing my drink around in its container. Jonan nearly chokes on his.
"What?!" he sputters. I huff, pressing a finger to my lips. "Shera, they'll eat you up alive! You haven't gone back—"
"For six years," I cut him off. "I know. I just hope I've changed drastically enough that they don't recognize me."
"The people aren't on the lookout for you as much as they were before," he nods, pausing to take a drink. "However," he continues, "most trained Imperials are taught by Vayne himself to give him notice if you're spotted. That pretty face of yours is hard to miss."
"You're joking."
"You think so? I was talking to a man at a tavern—I was drunk, mind you—and I mentioned a friend named Shera…" He chuckles, taking hold of my shoulder and flashing that grin yet again. "They were onto me faster than a panther pounces on its prey. When questioned, I only laughed and told a story of a farm girl in Rozzaria."
"I'll keep my face covered, for the most part," I sigh, knocking my boot against his. "I'm… surprised they didn't recognize you."
"Even if they did, they chose to leave me alone a long time ago." His naturally cheerful tone falls and he shrugs, taking a drink. He fights a smile onto his face and slings an arm across my shoulders, pulling me closer. "You paid; it doesn't matter right now."
"Get off me," I scoff, rolling my eyes and pushing at his wrist half-heartedly.
"Oh, don't be like that," he teases, wrapping both arms around me and crushing me to his side. "We're best friends, aren't we?"
"I'd hardly call us acquaintances," I mutter, elbowing his ribs. "Honestly, Jonan, you're crushing my—"
"Haven't we learned to keep our hands to ourselves?"
I look up to see Balthier standing in front of us with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow arched. I huff; Jonan grumbles something and pulls one hand away to reach for his drink. Scanning the emptiness behind Balthier, I frown.
"Where's Fran?" He shrugs.
"Off living her own life. She doesn't always tail me." He nods toward Jonan. "Owe him more?"
"Nah, she paid her dues this month." Jonan tugs on my braid playfully, winking. "We get along nice when she's good."
"No, we don't," I huff, crossing my arms. Jonan laughs, turning back to Balthier.
"Listen, friend. The people out here don't have a warrant out for my arrest and probable execution."
"And would they pass up the opportunity to travel a day to Rabanastre for Vayne's riches?" Balthier counters.
"Touché," the blonde mutters, finishing off his madhu. "I'm not bothering her, so why're you on my ass?"
"I'm in no such place," Fran's partner replies dryly, his eyes flicking over to me.
"She doesn't need rescuing, Mr. Balthier, alright?" Jonan throws his head back and gives a hearty laugh. "Oh, are you jealous that you can't have this?" He runs his hand down my side, digging his fingertips into my side; I fight a laugh I don't want to laugh, shoving his hand away. Taking my moment of weakness, Jonan hooks a finger under my chin and presses his lips to mine in a firm, possessive kiss. I roll my eyes, pushing him away from me. My cheeks are hot and I know they're bright red. Not because of Jonan, but because of his words. You're jealous that you can't have this? I suppress a shudder. Oh, but he could steal it away so very easily, Jonan.
"Absolutely not," Balthier retorts, crossing his arms. "I apologize; I had no idea Shera relished in abuse."
"For the gods' sake, Balthier," I snap, finally giving Jonan a less-than-hard smack across the face to get him off me. Laughing, the boy pulls his arm away, straightening his canvas shirt and taking my abandoned bottle when I hop off the crate to join Balthier's side.
"Well, it was nice catching up. Forget your payment next time?"
"In your dreams," I scoff, grabbing Balthier's elbow and dragging him into the swarm of Nalbina. In a lower voice, I speak to the elder sky pirate. "That boy needs to find himself a mistress or something."
"He's certainly an interesting young man," Balthier replies. "He's always this childish?"
"Like I said, I ruined his life early on," I shrug. "He's both vengeful and a bit screwed in the head."
"You say you ruined his life. What exactly does that entail?"
"… Getting his father killed by the imperial army and then letting him be tortured for information he didn't have for a year." I sigh. "He was twelve and I was reckless."
"I see." Once we're free from the crowd, I let his arm go. The others stand by the chocobos, waiting. Suddenly, a familiar smell catches my nose and I turn to Balthier.
"Mint?"
"Yes," he replies, holding up a simple, small wooden box. "I thought I might treat myself."
"Isn't that an Archadian thing?" Vaan asks, his nose crinkling at the smell. "I hate that stuff."
"Seriously?" I raise an eyebrow. Then I remember: I'm not supposed to be Archadian. Well, not super Archadian—the accent pretty much gives it away. I shake my head. "I've never tried one, just smelled it in marketplaces. Don't you people like cinnamon instead?"
"Yeah, hot instead of cold," Penelo nods. I look at Basch and Ashe. The princess shakes her head and her knight sighs.
"I was raised in the Republic of Landis, but I, too, prefer not to taste such a harsh flavor."
"Is it really that bad?"
"I think so," Vaan shrugs.
I turn to Balthier, waiting expectantly. The pirate sighs, dropping a red and white candy into my palm. Eyeing the sweet as if I've never seen it, I shrug and plop it in my mouth. Everyone waits in silence, Fran looking quite amused at the antics of her hume companions. Finally, I nod, fighting a relieved smile. Still the same.
"I like it."
"Oh c'mon," Vaan groans. "What, were you raised by aliens on a deserted island?"
"Something like that," I reply.
Laughing, Penelo shakes her head and climbs onto a chocobo, Vaan coming up behind her. I pay them no mind, savoring the last of the flavor and absently handing Basch the money bag. He accepts it with a nod of thanks and helps Ashe onto her ride. He then sits on his own chocobo. Huffing, I give in to my craving and swivel around, giving Balthier my best pleading eyes.
"Is there a chance I could have another for the road?" He stops stroking his bird's beak and raises an eyebrow at me.
"Selfish, aren't we?"He asks, raising an eyebrow. I shrug. "Fine. I'll give it to you for the price of a rescuing a damsel, as I saved you earlier."
"You didn't save me," I scoff, though I feel my face going red again. He shrugs.
"The offer still stands."
"Balthier…." I whine. He doesn't budge, smiling smugly with his arms crossed. He knows he's caught me. I huff, nodding toward the rest of the party, who waits for us on the outer path through the city. "In front of them?!"
"If you really want it, you'll do it," he shrugs.
I stand a moment longer, glancing at the others. They look distracted enough, I suppose. Irritated, I give in, stepping close and tugging him toward me by the rough edges of his embroidered vest. Quickly, I press my lips to his cheek, pulling away and crossing my arms. He chuckles at my reddening face, handing another mint over to me. I pluck it from his fingers and put the candy in my mouth, turning to ride my chocobo with Vaan. And then I freeze, mortified. Vaan and Penelo left together…
"You're not the most observant," Balthier comments easily, looping his thumbs through his belt loops and cocking his head to the side. "Now, are you sitting in front, or am I?"