Author's Notes:

Many thanks to all of you that have been kind enough to take the time to leave me a few words after reading!

Special Dedication to Feeny Beeny.

and thanks to Maudie! The name "Circlet of Divine Light" for the temple in Eruyt is an idea of hers which hails from our collab fic: Why the Dog Howls at the Moon.

With little else to say, I give you chapter 7... I hope you enjoy! :D

.• SAVE THE QUEEN •.

Chapter 7

I See Your Shadow

Give me a reason to believe that you're gone
I see your shadow so I know they're all wrong
Moonlight on the soft brown earth
It leads me to where you lay
They took you away from me but now I'm taking you home

Even In Death- Evanescence

The cruel, numbing wind screamed around her prone body. Crystals of ice had formed in the ends of her white hair, and as it whipped over her brown skin, it tore at her like the grim and fleshless fingers of the undead.

Still was she: a statue, unmoving and waiting. To open her heart completely to the ancients, she was forced to shut out all association with her physical body. Still it remained in her conscience: the vague yet stubborn knowledge that she was connected to the earth beneath her. It was keeping the whisperings of Her Sacred Voice from reaching her.

After a length of time impossible to gauge, a small rip formed in the filamented and sticky web of her current reality, allowing her to slip through. Inside her mind's eye, she fell from the glacier of Paramina into a bodiless place of light and peace. Fran's heart leapt as the whisperings of the Green Word ebbed then flowed, encircling her, spiraling about her, joining with her. For the first time in many long years she heard (felt) its melodious spirit song become one with her quintessence.

We have longed for your return changeling.

The wind howled its fury, throwing her hair in all directions like a halo of white...she felt nothing. Small daggers of crusty ice changed direction in the whirlwind, biting into the brown skin of her face...she felt nothing. The ground beneath her began to tremble, then to rumble, then to quake...she felt nothing.

With a thundering roar and a flash of it's damned and glowing eyes, the behemoth approached.

Hala stared wide-eyed, as her shock held her entranced for a moment. Helplessly, her eyes fixated in horror on the dark blood that began slowly seeping out from under the hume man's back. It soaked his shirt a deep scarlet, then slowly spread over the leaf littered ground beneath his limp body. The viera's acute sense of smell picked up the warm coppery scent of the man's quickly draining life-force, finally causing her paralysis to break. She threw herself to the ground beside him and placed her hand over his still beating heart, her long fingers twitching next to the shaft of the arrow that swayed gently with the movement of his waning breaths. He was hit deeply, mortally, there was so much blood...far too much blood. She knew this hume would not survive and with Balthier gone, Fran's death in Silverflow's End would surely follow.

The salve-maker looked up and around at the expressionless faces of the wood-dwellers that gathered about her and the dying man. Suddenly, she was unable to hold her outrage at the atrocity inside. As her eyes found the wood-warder that had executed the lethal shot; she ground her claws into pathway in anger then leapt to her feet.

Hala's voice was greatly aggrieved, almost panicked as she shouted, "What have you done!?"

"The unwelcome one was attacking you Hala." The masked guard's voice was remorseless, as she loosely gripped her spent Yoichi Bow at her side.

"No...you are wrong!," The salve-maker began shaking her head vehemently, her cropped white hair whipping her cheeks. Her outburst was cut short however, as the towering wall of viera onlookers parted, allowing another to step forward.

The Priestess.

Jote's claret eyes widened as they fell upon her younger sister's partner that lay dying at her feet.

"Vaan!"

Penelo battled against the torrent of air that shoved back at her as if trying to keep her away from the Galbana. She was close enough to his ship now that she could see the firm set of his jaw upon his profile through the windscreen. She knew he couldn't hear her from inside the cockpit, but somehow she couldn't make herself stop calling out to him.

"Vaaaaaan!"

He blinked and suddenly looked straight down at her.

"Vaan."

This time Penelo whispered his name only to herself, looking pleadingly into his blue eyes through lashing wind and thick windscreen glass. She brought both hands up to her hair, holding the golden strands back from whipping at her eyes. Motionless, he watched her for a long moment, letting the airship hover in place. Her heart seized in her throat as he looked away from her, his expression unchanged. She watched him lean forward and roughly shift controls upon the panel, and for a terrible moment she was sure the Galbana was about to lift away into the sky.

Instead, it began to descend gently before her.

She waited as patiently as she could, willing the airship's landing skids to make contact with the hanger floor. Once they touched down, she heard the familiar mechanical hum of the Galbana's hatch. The airlocks let loose with a hiss and the door began to lower; before it had yawned even halfway open, she was bounding up the stairs in a crouched run. She entered the fuselage then turned immediately to the cabin where Vaan was still sitting.

"Vaan." Suddenly she stopped short, afraid of what words he might have to say to her.

His head moved slightly at the sound of his name, though he didn't turn to face her. Fearful of moving closer to him, she sat heavily on one of the wide passenger seats behind him, then dropped her face into her hands. The girl wished more than anything, to take back what she had done, though she hadn't expected Vaan to be so hurt...so jealous. Suddenly, she couldn't stop the flood of tears that had been threatening.

"I'm...so...sorry."

...

He ground his teeth as anger rose up inside him, cinching his throat like a cord being pulled tight.

She does this to me...and then she gets to cry?

Suddenly, he was up and out of his chair, then storming the few steps it took to close the gap between them. He leaned in, almost touching his nose to hers and clutched the back of the seat next to her head in a vice grip.

"Why did you have to kiss him Pen!? Why!?"

She stared back at him with such wide and lovely blue eyes that it wrenched his gut. Small pearly tears sat on the tips of her long lashes; symbols of her innocence and regret. She was so beautiful...why did he realize that he could lose his best friend only once it was too late? Vaan released a sigh, and let his head drop forward in defeat, his long blond hair completely obscuring his face. He slumped down close beside her, taking several breaths to calm himself.

"Balthier doesn't care about you, Penelo."

She blinked in surprise, releasing the tears and sending them glimmering down the smooth surface of her cheeks. Vaan moved his head to one side, causing his pale hair to fall away from his brow as he looked up at her, his eyes swimming with pain.

"Not like I do."

Fully armored, Basch strode briskly down the corridor in the direction of his liege. As he moved through the over sized hallways, his black cape fanned out behind him, exaggerating the impression of his size. All the individuals he passed, from young, skittish servants to fellow judge magisters made a wide berth around him. He nodded and spoke to no-one, though people still had a tendency to stare after his menacing form as he passed.

As he rounded the bend that lead to the huge decorative door of Larsa's study, a small pageboy collided with his unyielding body. The boy was sent flying onto his rear-end, spilling his armload of the emperor's outgoing correspondence over the highly polished marble tiles. The page sat, staring up at the judge with huge, frightened brown eyes. Basch twisted his helm, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was within eye-shot of them. Seeing no one, he squatted with a low grunt and began gathering the pieces of vellum bearing Larsa's elaborate handwriting.

The boy watched him, frozen, until Basch placed the rearranged stack of letters into his hands. Once back in possession of them, the boy leapt to his feet and ran, having completely abandoned or forgotten his duty to properly address a member of the House Solidor Magistrate.

The judge magister stood and crossed the final paces to Emperor Gramis' former ministerial office, unnervingly the same room where Larsa's father had been murdered, and raised a gloved hand to knock. He hesitated a moment, hearing the low murmur of voices coming from inside.

Wondering if this visitor was the reason Larsa had called for him, he knocked firmly upon the door.

Stunned by his words, she sat looking at him openly for a long moment. Then, her weeping all but forgotten, she moved her graceful fingers up to brush his silky hair away from his face. He didn't move away from her touch and this terrified her and excited her all the same.

Her cheeks flushed red, but still she blurted the question, "Well...how do you care about me Vaan?"

He had been her closest friend for as long as she could remember, but never had she spoken to him with words so heavy with romantic honesty. Never had she spoken to any boy that way. It was strange and exhilarating. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out save for a small stammer.

"Tell me." Her voice shook nervously as she scooted herself closer to him. "Vaan, I need to know."

"I...I..."

Penelo couldn't help but release a small anxious smile as she brought her trembling hand up and flattened it out over his face.

"Then show me."

His eyes widened as she leaned forward and touched her mouth gently to his. The contact sent a warm surge through her entire body, but she didn't kiss him. Instead she waited, teasing the smooth skin of her lips over his. She closed her eyes as he released a shuddering breath into her mouth. Then, with an abrupt motion, his mouth was over hers and he was kissing her.

She made a small surprised sound, then nervously welcomed him as he wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her body close to his. It amazed her how unrestrained and eager he suddenly was, almost as if he had been waiting a long time for this moment. Never had she imagined kissing Vaan would feel so wonderful and so right: so intimate and arousing. He leaned further into her and she let herself fall backward onto the seat. His arms grew taught as he held her weight, lowering her slowly onto her back beneath him as he moved directly over her.

Suddenly he pulled his head back, looking almost surprised by the position they were in, "Pen..."

"Don't stop." She whispered already grasping the back of his head and forcing his mouth to hers.

He kissed her immediately and deeply. Wrapping herself around him, Penelo sighed feather light over his face, and tasted the salt of her own tears upon him.

Having been tipped off by Migelo, Ashe made her way through the crowds on the merchant airship dock and had little trouble spotting the exotic shape of Vaan's airship up ahead. Fortunately for her, she was still rarely recognized by the commoners of Rabanastre, so no one impeded her as she hurried over to the ship. She was almost to it when someone suddenly called out her name.

"Ashe!"

She furrowed her brow and scanned the crowd, seeing no one she continued toward the Galbana, but then wheeled around as she felt someone tug on her skirt from behind. Completely unaccustomed to being handled in such a way, she whirled around ready to strike the offender with the open palm of her hand. She blinked in surprise however when she saw a young ragamuffin child before her. He looked familiar, though she couldn't quite place who he was...an orphan surely.

"It's me...Kytes!"

She nodded at him vaguely remembering that this boy was a friend of Vaan and Penelo's.

"So it is." She smiled at him politely, "Excuse me, I am trying to locate Vaan."

"He's in the Galbana," the boy said importantly and pointed to the ship beside them. No doubt, excited about chatting with the Queen of Dalmasca. "The hatch is shut though...Hey! Let me get the ladder, then you can climb up and get his attention!"

"That would be most helpful." She placed her hands on her hips, then added after clearing her throat, "Thank you."

Kytes beamed at her over his shoulder as he ran off to get the ladder. He returned moments later and propped it up so it leaned against the airship's windscreen. Ashe gave him a small curtsy then began climbing the rungs unaware that the boy was happily climbing up right behind her, as customary.

Wasting not a moment, Jote spun toward Rael and the warders, "Carry him to the Circlet of Divine Light immediately."

Having left them no room for rebuttal, the village chief turned and lengthened her long strides along the suspended walkway, through the Spiritwood, to the Fane of the Path Beyond. Climbing the stairs to the shrine, she broke into a run, then pushed through the doors of the temple of Divine Light. She entered along with an eerie ray of late morning sunshine, then moved quickly to the large table inside the meditation chantry. Panting, Hala breached the doorway moments after, in time to see Jote extend one long arm then abruptly sweep the offerings from the top of the alter. Ceramic and bone vessels went crashing to the ground, scattering the sweet smelling herbs they contained over the immaculate ivory floor.

Covering her face with her hands anxiously, Hala turned as several wood-warders passed through the threshold, bearing Balthier's heavy, drooping body between them. Like unholy tears, near-black beads of blood dropped from his body and spattered the floor. As one, the guards moved to the alter and gently laid him over the cool, smooth surface.

"Hala!"

She nearly gasped as the chieftess called her name.

From the back side of the tablet, Jote beckoned her closer, "I will need your help," She then waved her arm over the rest of the viera gathered inside the niche, "Leave us."

Choking back her fear, Hala stepped, once again, into the unfamiliar and disturbing stench of death and gore that permeated her highly acute senses.

"The arrow must be removed."

With her ears folded back over her pale hair, Hala nodded her understanding.

Jote continued, "As I pull it out, press your hands tightly over him and seal the wound."

She was one of the main healers of the village, but even in all her long years she had rarely seen trauma this severe; death was not commonplace inside the sanctity of Eruyt.

The smaller viera swayed briefly, but quickly agreed, "Yes, Priestess."

With not another word of preparation, Jote gripped the arrow's shaft firmly with both hands then, with an awful tearing sound, she jerked the apex quickly out from between his ribs. In the wake of the arrow, a huge gush of blood spurted from the deep wound in his chest with one of the last beats of Balthier's heart. With a desperate cry, Hala lurched forward and squelched both her hands over the slick surface of his ruined embroidered vest, trying to capture the remains of his escaping life. As she frantically pushed down on his chest, blood bubbled pass his parted lips and streamed over his jaw, pooling on the marble beneath his bejeweled ear.

She was vaguely aware of the tingling feeling of Jote liberally pouring cool healing potion over her fingers and into his wound. Through clumps of her tangled white hair, Hala looked up at the sky pirate's handsomely stubbled face as a drawn-out, wavering sigh escaped him. She stared; her eyes growing ever wider, as she waited for him to draw in another breath. A choking sound escaped her as she waited...and waited, but his next intake of breath never came.

...

Through the swirling whispers of the Green Word inside her spirit, a solid form approached, black and refined...a mere dark shadow with no tangible shape, but still very familiar. The faceless, graceful apparition moved closer; dark arms like wisps of smoke reached out to her, billowing over her in dark snaking tendrils.

Her lips moved...trying to make the sounds that spoke this creature's physical, world-bound name.

Sitting cross-legged amid the raging blizzard of Silverflow's End, Fran's eyes suddenly shot open as she sucked in a huge gasp of air.

"Balthier."

Having been unable to detect her presence until this moment, The great wyrm, now free from the bondage placed upon him by His Grace the Gran Kiltias Anastasis himself, suddenly swung the monstrosity of his head in her direction.

This time Fran was able to hear the earth shaking roar over the screaming voice of the wind. Fafnir snorted huge puffs of steam from his nostrils...then charged.

...

After an impossibly long and silent moment, Jote finally spoke, "Leave me with him," her voice void of emotion.

Hala looked up at the priestess with questioning eyes, but Jote did not return her gaze, as her own eyes were fixed on the man before them. She opened her mouth to respond, but a wave of grief and shame overwhelmed her. She peeled her hands away from his still warm body, his blood already congealing like dark glue between her fingers.

She stumbled away from the alter, crossed the stained floor and pushed through the temple's wooden doors. As her face met with the brutally uncaring sunlight outside the shrine, her legs buckled and she began to fall, not noticing the pair of hands reaching to catch her.

...

Mjrn watched in horror as Hala staggered through the doors of the Circlet of Divine Light. Always adorned completely in purest white, the salve-maker's dress was now covered with ghastly smears of gore. As she noticed her friend begin to falter she lunged forward, reaching out her arms to catch her. Both viera went to their knees together amid the golden leaves that lazily floated down around them from the thick trees overhead.

Alarmed by Hala's unfocused gaze, Mjrn shook her gently, "Hala...Hala...what has happened?" Already dreading the news, she pushed further, "Balthier?...Hala what of Balthier!?"

At that, Hala's eyes shifted, and looked into her face though she seemed to look right through her. She uttered an answer so faint that the rest of the wood-dwellers gathered close by were unable to hear, even with their ears perked and attentive. Mjrn heard, however, and her mind began reeling with dread...Fran...Oh Gods...Fran.

"Balthier is dead."