Ashe puts the hood of the coat up again and emerges from the alleyway, the air from the sea drying the remaining tears on her face as she trails behind Balthier once more. He seems far tenser now, probably because he has now connected himself to her with this key to his room.
The inn looks much friendlier than the one she's been in for the past few days, and she sees Balthier glance back to her almost imperceptibly before he goes inside. Ashe busies herself with a few market stalls since he has asked her to wait. Perhaps he is warning Fran that she is coming. She was too out of place before, staring at things and not buying, so she purchases a loaf of bread and some exotic Rozarrian cheese. There's no way of knowing if the sky pirates intend to share their supper with her. She enters the inn then and takes her hood down when she only sees a snoozing old woman at the counter.
She makes way to the third floor and knocks on the door at the end of the hall. The door opens moments later, and Balthier smirks. "I gave you a key." Ashe is immediately flustered. How could she have forgotten so quickly? Balthier laughs and stands aside. "Get in here." He takes the food from her hands and brings it over to the table in the corner of the room. There is no sign of Balthier's things in the room, and she rolls her eyes. He gave her the spare key to Fran's room and must have picked the lock himself.
The Viera is not around, and he moves to close the door. "Where is Fran? I would speak with the both of you," she mumbles. He gestures for her to sit, and he helps himself immediately to the food she's just purchased for herself. The man has changed very little since she met him. She joins him at the table and shrugs off the heavy coat, draping it on the chair. Balthier raises an eyebrow at her thin shift tucked into the trousers. "I could not travel the countryside in a royal gown."
"I know," he remarks, munching on a bit of cheese. "They found your clothes in that bin behind the theater." She looks down and frowns. They had been looking for someone in different clothes all along when she'd been so confident they'd be looking for a Queen. Balthier waves his hand to calm her. "Fran's at the aerodrome, she'll be back shortly I should think. I'm sure she'll be…"
"Happy to see me?" Ashe supplies when Balthier cannot find the words.
He smirks once more. "Fran is never happy, you know that," he jokes, but she knows he only does so because he isn't sure what else to say. She doesn't know how they can even be sitting here so…domestically after all that she has done, but she ignores it and lunges for the bread and eats her fill since she paid for it after all. "Did you steal that food?"
She scowls at him, reaching into the coat pockets and depositing the remainder of pearls and jewels on the table in front of him. "I paid for it." They eat in silence for a while, and she will wait for Fran to arrive before beginning to discuss her ordeal. That Balthier can sit and eat with her has given her some happiness, but he will not go where Fran won't follow, and she knows this. The sky pirates have been partners far longer than she has known them, and their loyalty to her will never outweigh their loyalty to one another.
Ashe has never been one for small talk, and as chatty as Balthier can be, he isn't one for idle conversation either. Instead, they eat and stare at the floor or the wall, although she catches him glancing at her strange clothes and dark hair every few moments as if to assure himself that it is truly her. Together they finish the bread and cheese, and he moves to pick up one of the pearls. "So you stole these then?"
"No, Balthier. Those came from the dress."
He sets the bauble down and seems impressed. "Quite the little operation, Princess. Master of escape. There's a bit of pirate in you begging to be set free."
She shakes her head. He has been very mercurial since their encounter in the alley way. He was first gentle, then cold and now he is settling into the same jovial behavior he exhibited during his secret visits to her. She hasn't the slightest idea what he is thinking nor does she know how much he knows about her situation and was has happened in Dalmasca. "The clothes belong to the palace gardener in Archades."
He chortles with laughter then, his face reddening in his joy. "Is that a fact? They were wondering how you got away." She is surprised he can make light of it, but he has always had a rather dark sense of humor. Perhaps he finds the whole thing a grand joke. There are footsteps in the hall then, and Balthier gives her a reassuring smile. "Door's open, Fran."
The Viera enters and closes the door. If she is surprised to see her there, Fran doesn't show it. She merely nods and sets down a tool kit. Fran addresses her partner first. "The coupling is repaired. We have clearance to depart tomorrow morning."
Balthier acknowledges this with a sigh of relief and then almost as if they have a psychic bond, he and his partner turn to face her at the exact same moment, their eyes inquisitive. Ashe swallows down a few gulps of air and meets Fran's gaze first. "It has been a long time, Fran."
"Majesty," she says with a deferential bow of her head. If Balthier is hard to read, then Fran is a solid stone wall. Ashe supposes that he has picked that up from his partner as the years have gone by. The Viera joins them at the table, her ruby eyes flitting quickly over the small pile of jewels.
"I suppose you know of my…of what has happened in Dalmasca," she says quietly. The partners offer no acknowledgement or denial, and it seems they will hear her side before passing judgment. She relates her headaches, including the one Balthier himself witnessed in person. Then she explains that strange council meeting and her speech before the people – and the terrible headache and visitation from the Occuria.
"Was it a dream?" Fran inquires, finally interrupting her recollections.
Ashe bites her lip. "It felt as a dream does, but somewhat more real. It felt like I was truly in Giruvegan again." She remembers being blinded, but Gerun spoke to her as she is speaking to Balthier and Fran right then.
The Viera nods. "I am sorry. Please continue."
Eight days of her life gone, she tells them what she learned from Basch in Archades and recounts her escape and subsequent life on the run for the past several days. They take it all in, and when she is done explaining, Balthier and Fran exchange a glance that she cannot decipher. So much of their communication has always been silent, and never has Ashe hated it more than she does now. Their faces are impenetrable, only a subtle quirk of lip or eyebrow indicating that some form of discussion is taking place before her.
Balthier leans back in the chair a few moments later and laces his fingers together behind his head. Fran picks up a few jewels and frowns at them. She speaks softly. "So you believe the Occuria exhibited some sort of control over you?"
Ashe nods. "I would never harm my people or start meaningless conflict. When Gerun spoke to me, she said I was their slave."
The Viera does not react, merely letting the words hang in the air for a few moments while Balthier puts his feet up on the table as if they are chatting amiably about politics or the weather. Fran has never been demonstrative, but she places one of her hands over hers and meets her eyes. "And they have not visited you again? You have not lost any more time?"
"No."
"You are absolutely certain?"
Fran is right to ask these questions. Her story is strange indeed. Erratic behavior, yes, but none since she woke in Archades. "I have no idea what the Occuria mean for me. Maybe I am out of their reach…"
"I doubt it," Balthier replies with a snort.
His eyes are not cruel, and she tries to remain positive. "Perhaps they think they have brought me low enough – gave me enough rope to hang myself with. Dalmasca is my greatest joy and to betray that…" Balthier is examining the cuffs of his shirt, and she doesn't know what to think of his behavior. He's never been altogether serious, but she wonders if he thinks her mad like Basch had. She pushes on. "To betray that would be enough for anyone to give in, but I cannot. I will see my name cleared and this crisis averted."
Fran's voice is steady as always. "And for that to become a reality…"
She looks away from the bored-looking Balthier to hopefully garner a bit more sympathy from his partner. "I would seek your assistance. I have no one else."
"How are we to know you're not being swayed by the Occuria right now?" Balthier asks then, and she feels her face grow hot. Perhaps their machinations are more subtle now? Loras stealing all of her food, nearly succumbing to her exhaustion…are the Undying ones still manipulating her fate by throwing more challenges in her path?
Ashe closes her eyes and tries to maintain her calm. "I have no way to prove that to you other than to give you my word. I've had no headaches in over a week – if I had one, then you would probably have reason to fear me."
Fran finds this agreeable. "If you were to have an episode, we would have to subdue you. Is that a problem?"
She shakes her head. "It is an expectation. I would trust no one else to take care of me when…" Frowning, she clears her throat. "In the event that it happens again." Balthier's eyes widen slightly when she mentions trusting no one else, and she can only think of Basch and how she has probably severed their friendship. "I have said my peace…might I ask some questions of you?"
The Viera nods. "Of course. You have been on your own for many days."
"Is there any news of Dalmasca?"
Balthier finally removes his feet from the table and stands, moving to glance out the window. "Still under sanctions from Rozarria. Word has it that your uncle is secreting grain into the country, but Hammad won't like it when he finds out. Larsa's working with Al-Cid to keep the good fellow from bringing a fleet of airships to bomb your capital into oblivion."
He is never one to speak falsely, and she is glad to hear that Dalmasca is being cared for in her absence – but the threat of Rozarria stirring is unsettling. News of Larsa has given her an excuse to discuss Archades. "And Basch…I…well, you probably know…"
"That you knocked him out with his own blasted helmet?" Balthier replies with a laugh. "Oh, that's gotten around." He seems to sense her discomfort, and he looks back out the window.
Fran squeezes her hand once more. "He is quite alright. He is made of sterner stuff than we know."
She is glad to know this, but surely the blow to his pride and status in Archades has caused more pain than a blow to his skull. "I am glad to hear it." Ashe doesn't need another burden on her mind, and knowing that her dear friend is recovered is a comfort. Some time has passed since she began to explain her experiences, and already the afternoon sun over Balfonheim is beginning to wane. "Forgive me, but…"
"You still need an answer."
She can see Balthier's reflection in the glass, and he is watching her and not the pirate town below. She cannot afford to shrink under his gaze – she must look like someone worth helping, even at probable risk to his life. Where she originally thought that Fran would be the one to convince, it appears that Balthier is weighing his options far more carefully. She cannot blame him – to go against the Occuria seems suicidal, but a fallen Occuria played a role in his father's death. Maybe Balthier wishes for some sort of closure?
And that is when it hits her. How hard it had been for him to even believe in Venat's existence, how long his father had been under her influence and had changed. Balthier had fled his home not knowing what had happened to the man, and then he'd confronted him only because of the way their paths crossed – he'd told her as much at Phon Coast. Does he wish to meddle in such a messy situation once more? He'd been nothing but supportive then, even helping to kill Cid himself. Could Balthier really bring himself to help her again when she is probably as crazed as his father had been?
Fran rises from the table then. "I will run a final check on our supplies and assure that the Strahl is ready for tomorrow's departure." She leaves the room then, and Ashe realizes that Fran's words can mean any number of things. Tomorrow's departure needn't include her. The Viera has left the final decision to her partner, and still he looks at her in the glass.
"Balthier, I understand your reluctance…"
"Do you?" he asks simply, no trace of malice in his words.
She stands and walks over to him. "That you have even listened to what I had to say has helped me so much already." It has been good to share her experiences, no matter how dire they have been. To speak of them has cleared her mind and helped her to cope greatly. "Thank you."
He turns away from the window and crosses his arms. "Giruvegan?"
His father went mad there, at least that is how she understands it. Balthier has only given her brief glimpses of his life before Cid's change. A trip to the Jagd Difohr resulted in his madness and was probably when Venat broke away and set him on his destructive path. Balthier had been almost disgusted with himself when Cid conned them all into visiting the ancient city – where the Occuria had first spoken with her and chosen her as their sword bearer. And now she would go back? Would he willingly take her there?
"I must confront them. They will be no masters of mine," she replies plainly, believing her words with every fiber of her being. That they have not visited her in so long leads her to wonder if she has grown strong enough to resist their interventions in her mind.
Balthier nods quickly. "History back in the hands of men," he murmurs, echoing the words of his father, and it chills her to hear them come from him. "And for good this time."
She grasps his forearm and stares up into his face, determined to crack his façade and find out his answer. Why won't he simply say yes or no? She could gather up her jewels and go back to that terrible inn before sundown. "Balthier, will you help me?"
His eyes look down to stare at her chapped, dry hand tugging on his sleeve like a small child. Pulling his arm away from her gently, he moves from the window and walks to the door. "You'll stay here with Fran tonight."
"Balthier, wait…"
He stops, halfway out the door. Looking back, she sees a profound sadness in his eyes that she has only seen once – when his father faded away right before them all. "Yes, Ashe. We will help you."
The door closes, and she feels hot tears in her eyes and will not brush them away as she usually does. Happiness and relief flood her entire body, and she sits on the Viera's bed because she can barely stand after her anxious wait for Balthier's answer. Finally after so many days, she is a step closer to gaining her life back. Fran returns a short time later with an armful of clothes.
She moves to the table and offers a handful of her remaining pearls, but Fran will have none of it. "You owe me nothing for this," the Viera says kindly as she hands over a clean blouse and long woolen skirt, more of an Archadian style than anything. It will help her appear common, but not out of place as the gardener's clothes do. Ashe accepts the new clothes gratefully. "I did not know the size of your feet, I am sorry," Fran continues, handing over a more sensible pair of ladies' boots that appear to be perfectly sized.
Ashe grins and takes them. "Is there any way I could take a proper bath?"
The other woman nods and moves past her into the small washroom and turns on the faucet. "I will leave you to it. I have some navigation charts to go over with Balthier," Fran notes as she heads back to leave the room. "I will lock the door behind me."
"Thank you, Fran. For everything," she replies, trying to convey her gratitude as strongly as she feels it within her. Fran says nothing, merely closing the door and turning her key in the lock.
The bath water is warm, and Fran has even set aside some salts and oils for her use. It smells divine and eases her tired muscles. Her feet have been sore from walking around Balfonheim these past few days, and the water is relaxing. If the Strahl has clearance for tomorrow, then they could make it to Giruvegan in a few days. The ship can be moored in the Paramina Rift and from there they need only traverse the twisting Feywood. Ashe has not missed the misted forest nor the ancient city beyond, but she feels like she must go there and confront Gerun.
When the water grows cold, she steps out and dresses in her new attire. She will not miss the filthy shift and trousers, still stained despite the laundering she'd done days earlier. The boots from the Archadian store will also be abandoned here, and she stuffs them under the other bed in the room for some maid to find when they are long gone. Examining herself in the mirror, her bath has left her looking far healthier. The stark contrast between her hair color and her skin tone is lessened now that there is some color in her cheeks and a bit more shine to her hair. She almost feels human again.
There is a knock at the door, and Fran announces herself. Ashe lets her in, and by now, it is time for supper. The Viera has brought soup from downstairs and some freshly baked bread. The smell of it is so good that she can't help but sigh happily, and Fran chuckles at her outburst. "I am sorry to leave you, but Balthier and I must maintain appearances. We will have dinner at the Whitecap and will be sure that anyone with an ear to hear us will know we depart tomorrow for a treasure hunt in the Deadlands. Few would be foolish enough to follow us."
Ashe sits down at the table again and begins to eagerly devour her meal. When that is done, she is asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.
-----
A firm hand rouses her, and she sees Fran's usual solemn face when she opens her eyes. "I'd begun to thought it was all a pleasant dream," she mumbles as she wakes. "I thought perhaps I was still imprisoned in Archades and the past several days nothing more than the fantasies of a troubled mind."
Fran says nothing as she rises from the bed, and Ashe supposes that making light of her situation isn't exactly a comfort to those who harbor her at risk to themselves. She goes about her morning routine quietly, and when she is dressed and ready, Fran is packing for travel.
"We imperil ourselves if we try to sneak you into the aerodrome," Fran explains, handing her the smaller of the two packs she has prepared. "Balthier has already departed with the Strahl for Archades. He will stock up with supplies and meet us in the Steppe tonight."
She nods. Rarely is she given orders, but she will gladly follow Fran's lead on this. To board any airship, she would probably need some form of identification. Though a city of thieves, false identity papers cost far more than her remaining jewels can buy. The thought of them brings her eyes to the table where the colored baubles and pearls have vanished.
"Fran?" she asks, looking desperately underneath the wooden table and by the rugs.
The Viera sounds rather uncomfortable when she speaks again. "Payment. Balthier is using the remainder of your jewels to purchase your food and fuel for the journey."
Ashe knew his help would not come without a price, but the tiny pieces from her dress were all she had left. The vial he gave her shattered, her clothes and possessions are abandoned, and she now appears a stranger with raven hair and Archadian clothing. Very little of Queen Ashelia remains outwardly, and inwardly she feels her remaining pride slipping away as well. Is there to be nothing of the Queen left, only some foolish girl begging the help of pirates who would take bits of pearl ripped from cloth?
She doesn't know why she allows the tears to fall in front of Fran, for she knows the Viera cannot fully empathize with her. Ashe wishes she could keep her feelings in check as Fran and her partner can. But he took them without even telling her, and she does not like it. There is nothing now that she can do of her own volition. The Occuria have stolen her control away before, and now Balthier would do the same?
The Viera surprises her then by wrapping an arm around her shoulders gently. "He does so because he is a pirate," she explains quietly, her soft hand rubbing her arm rhythmically to soothe her. "You may have noticed that Balthier has…difficulties with friendship."
Ashe chuckles at that, rubbing her eyes and turning red in embarrassment. A good businessman would seek payment for assistance – a friend would not expect to be compensated. She wonders if Balthier even knows the difference. "He is not always sensitive, Fran," she complains, moving to shoulder the pack. They have to get moving if they are to rendezvous on time with Balthier.
The Viera lifts the other pack and appears deep in thought. "He is more sensitive to your plight than you know, Majesty," Fran notes. "But he cannot show it." Ashe nods in understanding, much as she does not agree with it. Perhaps when she regains her throne, she will pay him properly from her treasury – she is sure he expects as much, she thinks with a sigh.
They depart the inn and journey to the outskirts of the port in relative quiet. It is strange to walk the streets in Fran's company. The Viera is swift in her movements, and her exotic beauty draws a great deal of attention. Luckily, it seems to keep eyes away from her, and perhaps this is why Fran was the one to accompany her. Not that Balthier cannot turn heads, but a Viera is still a strange sight to those unfamiliar with them.
She and Fran are almost to the Steppe when she sees him. The chocobo stables at the edge of town have a new worker, and there is no time to hide her face. Loras stands there dumbly, his hand perched atop his spade where he rests from his cleaning work, and he gawks at her. Fran seems to notice something amiss and tugs her by the elbow.
"Do you know that boy?"
Ashe turns away as quickly as she can, letting the grasses of the Steppe just paces away be the only thing she sees. Panic sets in as Fran nearly has to drag her out of the port, and she knows that even with her changed hair and clothes that Loras knew her. And now that he is in Balfonheim and seeking his fortune, perhaps he will…
"Pay it no mind," Fran chides her as they depart, and Ashe prays that nothing will come of it.