The cool sea breeze pulls at my hair, tugging it back from my face and whipping it around behind me. The salt holds a comforting smell and the rhythmic wash of the water beating upon sand is more than peaceful, even with the bustle of the pirate haven of Balfonheim echoing behind me. The home of Reddas is enough shelter for now, a well-sailed ship docked just off the shore. Even if he is more of a sky-farer, as I am, his mode of transport by ocean is extraordinarily gorgeous.
"They chose to supply the Resistance," Ashe says sharply, staring out at the water beside me. "And yet, they raise not a sword in aid. What city could do this?" Reddas cocks his head to the side, raising one dark eyebrow and scratching at his wild white beard.
"A city of men without countries. Pirate of the sea and of the sky." He steps toward the front of the ship as Ashe steps away from it, scowling at him. "Few are they who would fain lay down their lives for a friend, let alone a king." He leans back against sturdy wood, crossing his arms.
"The Marquis—he is set on war?" Ashe asks. Reddas sighs.
"The time approaches when he must make his position vis-à-vis the Empire clear. When he helped you off the Leviathan, he spited the Judges full score. He cannot sit in idleness and expect to avoid a reckoning." Reddas straightens, glancing off toward the bright blue waves that reflect the oranges and pinks of the seaside sunset. "The Marquis shares my distaste for war, yet if it comes to it, he will show no quarter."
"It's just what Vayne wants," Basch replies, stepping away from the cabin door and striding past Fran and Balthier to stand between Ashe and Vaan. "He lures the Rozzarians and the Resistance to the field, then crushes both with nethicite!"
"I think not," Balthier replies dryly, arms crossed as he leans back against a green table. "Cid has the Stone. We grab it, and smash it to pieces with the Sword of Kings. Vayne will be left holding nary a thing." He stands straight, lifting his chin. "Time is short. We follow Cid. He's heading toward Giruvegan."
"Giruvegan..." Ashe breathes, staring absently at the pirate.
"It is told of in a song of my people," Fran says, crimson eyes scanning over the party. "'On the farthest shores of the river of time, shrouded deep in the roiling Mist, the holy land sleeps: Giruvegan. Who knows the paths? The way to its doors?'" she quotes.
"Then you seek the Jagd Difohr," Reddas cuts in. "Deep within the jungle of Golmore, there is a corner of the Feywood where a Mist-storm surges and seethes."
"Then that's it!" Vaan exclaims. "Let's go!"
"Right," Penelo nods, gasping when Vaan grabs her hand and drags him after him as he runs off. Sighing, Basch follows with Fran on his heels. Balthier raises an eyebrow at the pirate in pink across from us.
"Not coming, Reddas? Forget your precious nethicite already?"
"Cid's words rang hollow to me," Reddas replies calmly. I raise an eyebrow at the man, waiting lazily for the conversation to end so I have an excuse to break off and do as I please for the evening, without having to stare at everyone in silence as they try to pry reassuring words from my lips. I don't have any to give. "I will follow another course."
"Ah, another lead then, is it? You're well informed."
"I could well say the same to you, pirate."
Balthier's eyes narrow on the bearded man, his suspicion clear on his face. I huff, cut off by Vaan bursting through the doors.
"Hurry it up, or Basch will eat everything in the tavern!"
"Ah, Vaan!" Reddas greets. "I've had some of my men check on this Feywood. Best ask what they've found."
"Okay! Thanks for the help, Reddas." The boy slams the doors shut and he's off again.
"Fly first, ask questions later," Reddas chuckles, setting his hands on his hips. "Your apprentice is more pirate than you."
"I don't have an apprentice," Balthier fires back, moodily leaving the deck. Reddas only laughs again, grabbing my arm and pulling gently.
"Lady Shera, I would ask that you leave me and Princess Ashe to speak alone. Join your companions for some rest in the tavern."
"Aye, aye, Captain," I mutter, offering Reddas a weak smile and pushing off the edge of the ship.
Walking through the doors everyone left through, I find my way out of the ship and down the narrow docks. In the evening glow of the beach, I see Fran standing on the path, paused as men bustle past her with heavy burlap sacks heaved over their shoulders and wooden crates piled up high in their arms. I duck my head down and move to past her with long strides, but her clawed fingers catch my arm with a strong grip.
"Come," is all she says before releasing me and striding toward the shore. Sighing, I follow, arms crossed. We stop where the water hardly graces the higher sands.
"What is it?" I finally ask, breaking the silence.
"What is this game you play?" she inquires, though her voice is more demanding than friendly.
"Game?" I frown, glimpsing up at her irritated gaze. "What do you mean?"
"Toying over his heart."
"Toying? I've not been toying with anything, Fran."
"I know the story of his brother, to be sure," she says, staring out at the crashing waves. "But there is something else... Who is this 'Jonan' to you?"
"Jonan?" I sigh, mulling over the question for a long, long time. "I'm... not sure. Certainly no friend."
"Closer or farther?"
"...Closer."
"What is he?"
"A hume, what else?"
"Do not play your game with me," she snaps, making me cringe. She does emote, then. "You had best decide quickly or I will pry open that snare of yours and set Balthier free before he bleeds out from this hopeless endeavor."
With that, she turns on her heels and strides toward the tavern where we've been granted rooms to stay the night. I frown and turn back to the sea. What was that? It feels as though I've swallowed a boulder. It's not the story of his brother, then... I shiver, hugging my arms closer. It's... Jonan? But that makes no sense. Jonan's no one, close to nothing. But at the same time... He's always been something far more than a friend as well, I suppose. Nothing like a friend, but certainly never a lover. How would I describe that?
I huff and shake my head, turning and walking toward the tavern. This all far too much to comprehend all at once. Is it jealousy? Uncertainty? Disappointment? If that man keeps avoiding me like the plague, I may never know. I shrug and push the tavern doors open.
Men laugh heartily with their tankards in hand and women serve drinks, batting their long eyelashes and swishing their skirted hips. In the corner, a rather large table seats the rest of our group. Feeling an ashamed blush crawl up my face, I awkwardly sit next to Fran, leaving one last empty seat beside Balthier. Vaan sloppily eats a cockatrice leg, wiping grease off his face with the back of his arm and waving the gnarled bone about as he talks.
"Reddas gave us all this for free, you know! A whole town of pirates!" He takes another bite, stores it in his cheek, and continues. "That's pretty cool."
"It is interesting," Penelo agrees in a much more civil volume. "Maybe we could come back some day, Vaan."
"We will," Vaan nods, dropping his finished drumstick onto his pewter plate. "It'll be nice to get some rest in a decent place for once," he adds, clasping his hands behind his head and grinning. "Hey, Fran. How much do you wanna bet that Shae's gonna take a long bath the second we set her loose?"
"What's wrong with that?" I mutter back, leaning my chin on the palm of my hand— I'm not in the mood for banter. I want a nice long soak, to be sure, and then I want to curl up underneath a pile of blankets and hide until daylight. The entire flight to this pirate's haven, I sat by myself as far away from the others as possible, ignoring their attempts at conversation and contemplating nothing but my time with Dern.
"You tired?" Vaan asks, frowning. "You're really grumpy."
"Don't let Cid's words get to you," Penelo says gently, offering a small smile. "We know you wouldn't—"
"And if she did?" Balthier interrupts. The pair of orphans sit in stunned silence for a moment before Penelo speaks again.
"Then it was as hard to do as it is to carry the burden." She turns back to me, smiling softly. "Isn't that right, Shae? I don't care who you are—I like you." She elbows Vaan. "Maybe someday I'll even be your partner and leave this sorry guy behind."
"Hey!"
I manage to muster up a gentle laugh for that one. Basch sighs, eyes lifting as Ashe enters the tavern. She spots us immediately, sitting in the booth seat between me and Balthier. The knight across the table eyes her a moment longer before clearing his throat and leaning back in his seat. Balthier's the first to break the silence.
"Well, the mood's far to heavy this evening. What say we lift it with some good old-fashioned madhu?"
"That sounds spectacular," I grumble, refusing to look at him when I speak.
"I shall join you for that," Basch replies, Vaan throwing his hand in the air.
"Me too! Me and Pen are old enough."
"How old do you have to be these days?" Basch asks, turning to the two with a raised eyebrow.
"Sixteen," Vaan shrugs.
And so Balthier orders six bottles of madhu for our table, leaving Ashe to be the only person skipping out. I've hardly drank a third of mine before Vaan's is all gone. The boy laughs, teasing Penelo relentlessly about her lady-like manners. And then somewhere across the room a band strikes up and the pirates cheer and start dancing around the tavern with any random partner. Vaan grins and turns to Penelo, mock bowing.
"May I have this dance, Miss?"
"No," Penelo retorts, nose crinkled in disgust.
"Fine," Vaan huffs, slouching in his seat and crossing his arms. And then his eyes meet mine and a grin spreads across his face.
"No," I say immediately.
"You've been moping too much," he states firmly, scooting past Penelo and Fran and coming to stand beside my chair. "So..." he takes a knee in some sort of extravagant gesture meant to resemble a bow and extends a hand. Glittering blue-gray eyes peek up past blonde eyelashes and his smile refuses to break. "Wanna dance?"
"Not really," I sigh, setting my bottle down. His smile begins to fade and I fight my own. "However, I could never refuse such charm in such a... an odd boy."
"Odd?!"
"She accepted your invitation—just take it as it is," Balthier replies, though there's a bit of a bite to his tone.
"Yeah, I will," Vaan snaps back playfully. "And we're gonna have fun. Right, Shae?"
"Most definitely," I nod, standing. Growing bold, I reach out a hand and ruffle Balthier's short hair before taking Vaan's hand and following him toward the open space of the tavern.
It's fun, clinging onto each other and laughing and sweating and galloping about the room. We're the youngest pair in the gathering, the faces of forgetful youth as the past and present fade away and all that matters is clumsy footwork and Vaan's overconfident grip. My hair blows about with every movement and I know the life's returned to my eyes for the first time in a long time. Even Ashe smiles as we pass by, laughing when we stumble because Vaan stomped on my toes when I bumped into another woman.
Finally, the music ends and I'm clinging to Vaan like he's a lifeline because he decided he was going to throw me backward after all, his hand surprisingly sturdy at the base of my back. He grins once more before pulling me up straight. His face is flushed red from all that running about and we're both out of breath. Damsel in distress... He did save me from my sour mood. Shaking my head, I press my lips to the boy's cheek and give him a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Thanks," is all I say.
"No problem," is how he replies.
We head back to the table, winded but buzzing with energy. Penelo laughs, fixing Vaan's wild hair. I scoop up my bottle of madhu without sitting and chug most of the alcohol. Even Fran, who was evidently ticked off at me, seems amused at my ruffled state. Offering Basch a smile, I look at my group of companions. At this rate, I suppose they're friends. Friends. I huff. Vayne'll have fun with that one, huh? If he has any spare time, that is.
"I'm gonna go hit the tub," I say finally, taking my bottle with me as I turn on my heels. "First three doors, right?"
"Yes," Ashe nods.
I push open the first of our rooms, looking over the bedroom tiredly. My muscles are screaming for rest and my eyelids are heavy. Hope I don't fall asleep in the bath. I take another sip from the glass bottle in my hand and trace my fingers over the blankets. What a pleasant surprise—somewhat clean linens. Huffing a sarcastic laugh to myself, I start toward the bathroom door.
"What's so funny?" I nearly jump out of my skin upon seeing Balthier standing in the doorway, arms crossed and shoulder pressed to the wooden doorframe. "Did Reddas leave us a love letter on the bed?"
"I almost wish he had," I reply, my nerves spiking as the pirate scoffs and steps into the room, drawing nearer. "What're you doing here?"
"Here?" He throws his arms out to the side dramatically. "I chose this room before you got here; Fran decided to room with Penelo and Vaan didn't say anything, so I was waiting for a roommate."
"Gods above," I grumble, taking another swig.
"Careful, now," Balthier retorts. "Don't want to wind up like your dear Jonan."
"My dear Jonan," I repeat, raising an eyebrow. "My dear Jonan is a mere child I want nothing more than to pay back my debts to. And perhaps to lead him off the horrid path he's on in the process, I suppose."
"Horrid path, hm? So unlike you to care for others' wellbeings."
"Of course, I forgot you can read me like a book," I fire back, rolling my eyes. Balthier raises an eyebrow, stopping at the bed and running his hand across its surface. He pauses, glancing up at me from the corner of his eye.
"Adamar... That was the last piece of your puzzle, wasn't it?"
"..." My eyes fall to the floor. There's more to me than... "I suppose so. Your little game's over, then."
"It seems it is."
Heaving a sigh, I start toward the bathroom once more, seriously considering drowning myself in hot bath water to avoid the humiliation. And then he does that stupid, absolutely ridiculous ploy where he takes hold of my elbow and forces me to face him, his stupid, absolutely ridiculous green eyes staring hard into mine. My heart skips a beat and I find that I can't breathe as a hand trails across my bare shoulder and hangs on there, heating my cooled skin.
"And that means I won, does it not?"
"What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice weaker than I intended. "I've no money for you, and I'm not about to offer a deal like Jonan's anytime soon."
"No deals necessary," he replies, cocking his head to the side. "At least, there shouldn't be. I like to think I have a fair idea of what your thoughts are."
"Obviously not," I scoff, teasing because I can't help it. I'm a mere orphaned child trapped in a twenty-year-old princess's body. "You never saw half the story coming."
"It's not the story I'm after."
"Is that so?" That boldness creeps back up on me (I blame it on the alcohol) and I can't help but clutch the back of his neck and tug his head down low enough that I can speak closer to his ear. "Then prove it to me."
Balthier pries the madhu from my hand and finishes it off in one long drink.
"As you command, Princess."
And he does.