The Strahl hums in her ears, and she wonders if this is what it feels like to be buried alive. Since Balthier's footsteps retreated minutes ago, she has continued to lay on her stomach and wait. She heard the same scraping metal noises from before – it appears the Alexander has allowed them to leave its confines.

Basch let them go. Balthier's lies must have been convincing enough, but at what cost? The two men had gotten along well enough before and now because of her there is bad blood. Will any of them be able to gain back Basch's trust when this business is over? Thinking back to the look on Basch's face after he had struck Balthier gives her the slightest bit of hope. He had obviously not wanted to go that far – Balthier had clearly goaded him.

The little hiding spot is as warm as the cabin below her, possibly warmer because the metal panels are growing hotter beneath and around her. The Strahl must be using her engines to fly away from the Alexander by now. She hopes it won't grow any hotter if she is to remain in this compartment – Balthier wouldn't be cruel enough to leave her in such discomfort, would he? Balthier's own face had been furious when he rose from his cabin floor, and she wonders if his anger was directed at Basch. Probably not – it was probably directed at her.

The minutes pass and still Balthier and Fran do not come back to let her out, and she feels panic begin to set in. She cannot hear them because the cockpit is too far away, and the humming of the engines is not soothing any longer. Surely they are out of harm's way by now…Balthier has to let her out.

He told her to stay silent, but she will not be held in a metal coffin until they reach Giruvegan. That would be hours, and she will not be cooped up that long. She pounds her palm against the metal. "Balthier!" she calls, her voice echoing off of the metal panels and ringing in her ears.

Only the sound of the engines reaches her ears once more, and it grows warmer inside the ceiling. The ship must be burning more fuel than usual – Balthier is flying faster than he has to. Perhaps he wishes to be done with this business before the Archadians come back after him. "Balthier!" she shouts again, trying to hit the panel harder. She's never been claustrophobic, but if she spends any more time in here she might not be able to avoid an attack of anxiety. Why won't he come for her?

The ship tilts violently then, sending her sliding across the metal until she collides with the corner of the bulkhead. Pain shoots through her arm, but she does her best to ignore it. Balthier is changing course, and that is far more worrying than hitting the wall. "Let me out!" she screams now, not caring how desperate she sounds. She slides back to the opening and pounds it with her fist. Ashe can't see any latches on the inside, but she begins feeling around with her fingers, looking to see if there is any place she can try prying the metal apart.

She continues to hit the metal panel until she has little feeling left in her hand. Finally, she hears footsteps in the room and then she can hear him climb up onto the chair. "You will let me out immediately!" she demands, thumping the metal one more time to express her anger. The panel is withdrawn then, and she sees Balthier step down to put it near his bunk.

Turning around as best she can in the enclosed space, she sticks her legs through the opening and feels him yank her out. He pulls her leg hard until she's almost out, then grabs her around the waist and pulls her all the way back onto the chair. They stand together for a brief moment, and she scowls up at him. "You needn't be so forceful," she spits.

For his part, his face is cold, and she sees that he hasn't yet cleaned up from Basch's punch. Blood still trickles down to rest between his nose and upper lip, and he looks down at her with disgust. Her breath catches at his harsh expression, and she doesn't know what to say. He steps down from the chair first and moves back to the bunk for the panel.

She hops down onto the floor and stands there dumbly while he fits the panel back in the ceiling. "Balthier, let me look at your face," Ashe says quietly as he steps down again and moves the chair back to his desk. He does not comply, instead moving to his cabin door and closing it. It appears that Fran is either not invited to this conversation, or he doesn't want her escaping to seek the Viera's aid.

He leans against the door and crosses his arms and stares at her. "You will be happy to know that the Alexander let us go."

Ashe nods ands moves over to Balthier's desk. There is a handkerchief on top, and she picks it up. If this is the only peace offering she can make, then she will make it. Walking over to him, she grips the handkerchief tightly. "Sit down, let me help."

"It's nothing."

"Balthier, don't be like this." He sighs and moves away from the door. She follows him to his bunk, and he sits down in a huff. She pulls her hand back when he reaches for the handkerchief. "Stop," she tells him. He obeys and merely stares up at her contemptuously.

His eyes are too much to take for right now, so she concentrates on taking care of his bloodied nose. She grips his chin firmly to keep him still and moves the handkerchief to his face. He winces when the cloth brushes against the top of his lip, and she bites her tongue. Balthier has never been a good patient. "Not broken, stop mothering me," he mumbles as she continues to pat the cloth gently against his skin.

"You wanted him to hit you," she remarks, wiping away the red. Finally she allows herself to meet his eyes, and she sees that there is some amusement in them now.

Balthier shrugs. "Well, not exactly. I just thought he'd get annoyed and take off. But whatever works, right Princess?"

"You really think so?" she inquires, thinking about Balthier's comment about Basch's service to Lord Larsa. How had he expected Basch to react to something like that?

He shoves her hand away finally and nods. "Takes a lot for a man like him to throw a punch. He's desperate to find you, Ashe."

She sighs and moves to sit next to him on the bunk, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know." Glancing at the bloodied handkerchief in her hand, she lets it fall to the floor. More blood on her hands. They sit quietly for a few moments, and she closes her eyes. Ashe listens to his even breathing beside her and doesn't know how to thank him for all he has done. He put his life and freedom on the line lying to a Judge of the Empire. "When this is over, I promise that I will repay…"

"Ashe, don't," he says, and she senses some discomfort in his voice. He shifts slightly on the bunk beside her, and she opens her eyes to see his hands are gripping the sheets. "I have to tell you something."

She looks up, putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort. "What?"

He flinches when she touches him, and he stands quickly. Picking up the handkerchief she dropped, he carries it back to the desk and sets it down. "Change of plan."

"What do you mean change of plan?" she asks, her stomach suddenly twisting at the abrupt shift in their conversation. Only minutes earlier she slammed into the bulkhead in the ceiling above. He changed course, she remembers.

Balthier won't look at her, busying himself with rearranging some papers and other little items on his desk. "Can't afford to try for Giruvegan now."

She is off of the bunk and by his side in his seconds. "What? Why? They let us go!" He cannot do this, not now. Not after all that happened with Basch. They're in the clear, and the Alexander allowed them to depart. Basch himself apologized as he left the Strahl. What is happening?

He sighs and still won't look at her. Leaning forward, he grips the edge of the desk and hangs his head low. "Too risky right now. Fran agrees. Just because the Alexander let us leave, that doesn't mean Basch will stop. They'll be watching us."

Her heart is racing nearly as fast as it had when she watched Basch and Balthier's confrontation. They must make for Giruvegan before Dalmasca is threatened even more by Rozarria. "Then…then drop me off," she tries bargaining. "Take me to Paramina, and you needn't see me again."

"We are dropping you off," he admits quietly, but she can tell that there is still something he is not telling her.

"Where? Why are you being cryptic with me, Balthier?"

He turns to look at her, and his eyes are serious. "Sit down. This is not a negotiation, Princess."

Balthier allows her to pull him away from the desk and only raises his eyebrows as she holds onto him by his stiff leather vest. "You can't do this. Where are you taking me?"

He looks down at her, and she doesn't know if he is sympathetic or just tired from the day's events. "You asked for my help," he says, placing his hands over hers tightly. He could probably break her fingers with little effort if he truly wanted to restrain her. "And I'm helping you."

She tries pulling away, but he will not release her hands. He is not taking her where she needs to go. Why won't he take her there? Why is he doing this? Her eyes are itching, and she tries desperately not to show her weakness when he clearly has the upper hand. "Are you helping me?" she asks angrily. "Because it is becoming clear to me that we are not on course to Giruvegan."

"Let me ask you a question, Princess," he answers darkly, leaning forward until he is only a few inches away from her face. "Let's suppose we were going to Giruvegan."

She can feel the tears forming in her eyes, and she is anxious to wipe them away before he sees them. Yet he still will not release her. He will see her brought so low?

He continues, his voice cold and almost malicious. "Do you have a plan? Were we to go in blind?"

"I…I haven't..."

"No, clearly you haven't," he replies harshly, releasing her hands and stepping away from her. It is all falling apart. All of her fears are becoming real. Why doesn't she have a plan? He must think her an idiot. "You will have plenty of time to think when…"

The pain is sharp and brings her to her knees in moments. No, they can't do this to her. They cannot add to her burdens, not now. She can barely breathe and it feels like there is something pressing down on the back of her eyes. The colorful rug on Balthier's floor is blurring, and she grips it in her fists. The nausea is overwhelming, and she is terrified.

Her mouth is dry and when she speaks, she feels like she is out of her own body. "Balthier, please…"

She can feel warmth beside her, his arm going around her shoulders and holding her tightly. She thinks he might be saying her name, although the sound of his voice is muddled in her head as she sees spots in front of her eyes. The ache increases, and she cannot remember pain this horrible in her life. Ashe can vaguely hear Balthier shouting for Fran. They are supposed to subdue her if she has an episode, aren't they? Why isn't he striking her? Why won't he do it?

"You have to…" she tries to say, but another cutting pain almost like a blow to her skull keeps the words from coming. She can feel his fingers trailing through her hair, and they are trembling almost as if he is afraid she will die if he is not keeping a hold on her. "You must hit me before they take me…"

His voice is louder then as he shouts again for Fran to come, and she thinks she hears the cabin door open, but she is too busy trying to keep breathing. It is almost like she is being choked as Balthier continues to brush his fingers through her hair. The sensation is almost soothing, and she tries to concentrate on it. The argument they were having fades away as he holds her close.

"I can't do it, Fran," she hears him say, his voice so close to her. "I can't." Fran's murmured reply does not reach her ears. The feeling of him beside her vanishes, and his fingers are gone from her hair.

"Come back," she lets herself croak, missing his closeness. It was helping her – it was keeping her strong. He has always tried to keep her strong. Instead she hears Fran's voice right beside her ear. The language she speaks is not one Ashe knows, and it almost sounds like a hummed melody. It is not lessening the pain, but she knows it is a distraction. Balthier cannot strike her down – and the duty has fallen to his partner.

She hears a whispered apology, and feels Fran's long fingers on her neck before all she knows is darkness.

-----

She wakes in Balthier's bunk, the scent of that damned cologne of his doing a fine job of rousing her from sleep. The pain is gone, and she feels almost refreshed. The familiar hum of the engines is gone, so she knows they've landed. Ashe moves to sit up, clutching the blankets tightly. Where are they?

She can remember the headache. The Occuria were trying to reach her once more – what would they have had her do this time? Would she have killed her friends? Crashed their ship? Fran's voice still echoes in her mind. Thank the gods for Fran. Whatever the Viera did to subdue her had caused her no pain. And since she can still see the bloodied handkerchief from earlier on the desk, she imagines that little time has passed. She has not lost days this time. They were not able to maintain their hold on her.

The small porthole by Balthier's desk might give her some clue as to where he's taken her. She rises from the bunk slowly, her limbs feeling stiff but otherwise functioning. When she looks out, she wants to scream.

The ruins. The island, the blue waters – and now she can hear the roar of the cataract. Craning her neck to look out, she sees the Pharos looming in the distance. He's taken her to Ridorana. He said they were dropping her off – it is far worse than that. They are abandoning her here at the edge of the world.

Racing for the door, she isn't entirely surprised to discover it is locked from outside. "Balthier!" She pounds on it like she had hit the panel in the ceiling. She moves from one trap to another. "You are not leaving me here! I will not stay!" She will swim back to shore before she spends one hour on this abandoned island. A clever choice, Ridorana, she thinks. Not many other ships with skystones capable of reaching it. A fitting safe haven…or a fitting prison.

Several minutes of demanding her release earn her nothing, and she paces the floor angrily. She must go to Giruvegan – they cannot expect her to sit here. Moving back to the porthole, she can see Balthier and Fran walking back together down the steep path. The both of them seem rather subdued, their steps slower than usual. She hears the hatch open, and she hurries back to the door.

"I am not staying here! Balthier!" she shouts, banging on the door. She hears a few clicks on the other side, and Balthier enters. His eyes are tired, and she imagines that neither he nor Fran have even slept since they left Balfonheim the morning before. "You cannot do this."

He sighs. "Don't make me carry you off the ship. I'll do it."

She scowls at him. "You would abandon me? Leave me to live out my days in exile with the beasts here?"

Balthier rolls his eyes and holds the door expectantly. "We're not abandoning you. Spare me the dramatics, will you? Get moving."

Ashe has little choice, and she departs the cabin and walks to the exit hatch. The stone ground is a change from the metal interior of the Strahl, and the long abandoned city of Ridorana greets her as it had two years earlier. The remnants of temples, arenas, and homes await just up the footpath as the giant Pharos reaches to the heavens in the distance. The sight of the ancient structure, its upper floors naught more than rubble now, chills her to the bone.

Fran is waiting outside, and she gives Balthier a nod when they pass. She heads back into the ship while Ashe follows Balthier up the path, her arms crossed defiantly. The sky pirate remains quiet as he leads her, and she stares at his back. He thinks this will help her? It will only make things worse. What if the Occuria decide to leave her to this exile and invade the mind of someone else? She is powerless to prevent that here on this island.

They descend into what was probably once the marketplace of the deserted city, their footsteps kicking up dust that burns her eyes. At the end of a twisting road, Balthier brings her to a simple stone building that still has a door on rusted, but sturdy hinges. "For privacy," he mumbles quietly as he demonstrates that the door still functions. Privacy from whom, she wonders, stifling the urge to laugh at the insanity of it all.

Balthier and Fran must have been carrying supplies back and forth for some time. They've set up a bed for her, probably with the mattress from Fran's cabin. Balthier gestures around like he is giving her the grand tour. "Food for a week. Water. Blankets," he explains in turn, then moves to one crate and opens it. He holds up a few books with a weak smile. "Even some reading material. About pirates, naturally."

She keeps her arms tightly at her sides so she doesn't start to beat him. "And the fiends?"

He has anticipated the question and removes one of his own firearms from another crate, holding it out to her like a flag of surrender. "I trust you know how to work one?" She refuses to take it, and he sets it back on top of the crate with a frown.

Ashe peruses the crates to confirm all the supplies they have left her. It is probably all the food her jewels purchased anyhow. Her fingers flit across the leather covers of the books, and she can see that he and Fran went to a great deal of trouble to provide her with entertainment and plenty of food and water. But this is all wrong…she cannot be left here. She will go mad all by herself – no need for Occurian assistance.

"Stay in the village," he orders her. "The last place you need to be is the Pharos. I don't care how bored you are…stay out of there."

"And where are you going?" she asks through gritted teeth. It is clear that there is only a set-up for one person. He and Fran are truly leaving her behind.

He faces her, putting his hands on his hips like he usually does when he is feeling less than patient with her. "Rabanastre, Archades, bouncing around."

"And I'm just to sit here?"

"Yes, that would be the idea," he confirms for her. "Fran and I make our faces known. Authorities are bound to get warrants to search the Strahl. They won't find you…Fran and I remain above suspicion."

She takes a step toward him, her hands becoming fists at her side. He is being awfully trusting, leaving the firearm within arm's reach of her. If he lets his guard down, she could pull the gun on him and demand he take her to Giruvegan. Maybe he is testing her…she cannot afford to turn on him, not now. He is her only way off of this island.

"Wait for things to settle," he continues. "Then we come back for you. If it lasts longer than a week, we'll bring you more supplies, but I don't see that happening." His plan is actually rather sound. There is no better way to prove to Basch and the other authorities that they do not harbor her. But what she does not have is the luxury of time – who knows what chaos occurs in Dalmasca in her absence? Her people are surely frightened by all the upheavals and threats from Rozarria. She loathes herself for being too weak to go to Giruvegan alone.

She remembers the way he stroked her hair, the hoarseness in his voice when he called for Fran's help. How can he be that man, that friend, and still leave her behind? "You cannot leave me here," she begs, her voice cracking.

He moves away from the crates and places his hands on her shoulders. "I can."

"Don't," she pleads with him. "Balthier, please don't…"

She is surprised then when his hands move from her shoulders to her face, and he brings his mouth to hers. It is the last thing she expects, but his lips are insistent and all she can do is allow it. She can barely process a single thought because it is really happening and it's Balthier, and she moves her hands to embrace him, to beg him not to leave her behind.

He deepens the kiss, moaning slightly against her mouth as he does so, and she feels a shudder course down her spine at the sound of it. She doesn't know why, but she wants this just as much as he does. Her mind is racing through all of the moments they've shared together, all his playful teasing and then she dwells on his sometimes cold behavior around her. He is so many different things, wears so many different faces in her presence, but right now he is warm and his hands are in her hair. He's been staring at her hair since he saw her again, and she doesn't want him to stop. She is being kissed by Balthier, and she is kissing him back and it has stunned her, shaking her to her core. His strong hands move from her hair to her back, holding her firmly against him. She is nearly out of breath, and she knows that once the moment is over that the spell will break. He will leave her there and fly away.

Balthier breaks the kiss first, pressing his lips against her forehead. "I am trying to keep you safe," he whispers against her skin, and she keeps her eyes pressed tightly shut. She clings to him as he starts to pull away, her sob catching in her throat as he does so. "We'll come back, I promise you."

She cannot open her eyes, and she stands there in the middle of the abandoned stone building as his footsteps scrape the floor and the door slams shut. Ashe listens to him walk the gravel path until she can no longer hear his presence. Opening her eyes, she looks around at her new prison, and she cannot stand it.

Hurrying out of the building, she runs up the path after him. It is steep and she trips, sending up a cloud of choking dust and scraping her knees on the rocky ground. Pulling herself desperately to her feet, she keeps running. She is nearly to the edge when she hears the Strahl's engines nearly explode in her ears with their sound. The ship rising from its mooring sends another avalanche of dust spraying in her direction, and she finally screams.

She watches the ship lift from the ground, its wings opening up and outward as he and Fran take off. Ashe falls to her knees and cries out, a wordless scream that hurts her throat and her chest, but it is the only response she knows as the Strahl rockets away into the west.