Chapter Four: Sandseas and the eccentricities of royalty

'You are staring, Balthier.'

He laughed, ' Is it not worth a stare or two?'

Standing at the beginning of the Ogir Yensa Sandsea and watching Vaan and Penelo frolic by the moving, rippling ocean of sand Fran flicked her hair back from her face.

' She will not take kindly to it.' Fran's voice was mild but she saw Balthier's lips twitch with pure devilment.

' Undoubtedly not. Still she must have chosen her current attire for some purpose and I doubt practicality was among her reasons.'

Relaxing somewhat, though Fran was not certain exactly why Balthier's interest in the renegade princess had concerned her, she allowed herself a small concession.

'It is a very short skirt.'

' Indeed. I am struggling to recall ever seeing shorter skirts,' his lips twitched more, ' even in Balfonheim.'

' I worry that Raithwall's treasure will not be worth the trouble we bring on ourselves in this venture, Balthier.'

They started trekking towards the rest of their rag-tag party; the princess in question turning suspicious eyes on them both.

'She doesn't have your fine physique either, not near tall enough.' Balthier murmured just barely audible even to Fran's sensitive hearing.

Fran did not look at him but she did not move away as he brushed his hand against hers, moving as he did so towards the party to take the lead. She recognised the gesture as apology and accepted it without reservation.

The party had barely made it to the ramp ascending towards the first of the refinery towers criss-crossing the Ogir-Yensa, when they were joined by the princess's erstwhile protector, Captain Azelas, otherwise known as Vossler.

Fran glanced at Balthier and saw her own, formless suspicion reflected in his eyes, though both their faces remained impassive.

For the most part Fran remained at the back of the party and Balthier in the lead. Fran had her Aevis Killer bow to lend support from the back, alongside her repertoire of Magicks.

Balthier, never one to blend into the background unless it suited him, had exchanged gun for Zwill blade and stayed close to the boy Vaan who had more enthusiasm than common sense.

To Fran when the Urutan Yensa made their appearance it was almost a relief. She was growing increasingly suspicious of the circumstances that had led them to this place, sensing destiny's unwanted hands upon the tiller of their fortunes.

Balthier, stuck in the unenviable position of having to guide the party over the Ogir-Yensa in one piece, was less enamoured of the distraction.

' You would think having been orphaned by war and left to fend for one's self for two years would have taught the boy some sense.'

Balthier dutifully held out his ruined, torn left sleeve, and the bleeding flesh of his arm underneath, for Fran's inspection.

Balthier had been forced to insert himself, to his own detriment, between Vaan and a small pack of Alraunes, harmless on their own but vicious in groups of three or more, when the boy had wandered off towards some rusted containers for no obviously discernable reason.

'Another shirt ruined. The princess Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca will soon find all her restored treasury going towards reimbursing us for the inconvenience of kidnapping her.'

' The princess I think is honourable, those she chooses to cloister herself with,' Fran frowned ever so slightly and inclined her head towards the spot, leaning against the rusted metal railings of one of the walkways spanning two refineries, where the princess stood with Vossler,

' I am less certain of their intentions.'

'Hmm? Oh, our charming and genial Captain Azelas Vossler?' Poisoned honey dripped from Balthier's tone.

'Or perhaps you refer to our dear King-Slayer turned wrongfully accused victim of fraternal strife?'

' You distrust them both?'

Balthier rolled his neck and stretched his arms, wounds freshly healed by Fran, in a yawn. ' Fran under our present circumstances I am quite prepared to vehemently distrust everyone and everything.'

She gave him a quizzical look, and he dutiful elaborated.

' I'm tired, hot, there is sand in places that no man would ever desire such and we are stuck, without the Strahl, in the middle of nowhere with nought for company but supposedly deceased and deposed royalty, arrogant insurgents and cut-purse street urchins.'

'Balthier!'

They both turned towards the imperious call, the princess stood a few feet before them, Javelin strapped to her back and a mixture of curiosity and suspicion on her plump cheeked face.

' You called Princess?' Balthier purred all silk and honey, even as he shot Fran a telling sideways look. Fran had no trouble hiding her smile on the inside, but she knew he saw it.

' We are ready to depart.'

'Joyous tidings indeed.'

Balthier gave the Princess only his best impassively polite smile as he moved past her. The Princess frowned after him and then looked at Fran.

For a moment their gazes met then the Lady Ashe looked away, almost as if intimidated by Fran's placid regard.

It was nightfall when they made it through the Ogir-Yensa Sandsea to the border with the Nam Yensa Sandsea and all were glad to see the friendly trader waiting for them.

'Are we nearly there yet?'

Fran turned her head away as Vaan's plaintive voice rose over the campfire towards her as she sat quietly in the shadows of one of the huge flowering cacti that littered the Sandsea.

' We are perhaps halfway.' Basch's patient bass rumble in answer was all but drowned out by Vaan's drawn out groan.

With Balthier engaged in friendly conversation with the travelling merchant, Dyce, and his companion Dilah, Fran decided to let herself fall into the ebb and flow of conversation around her.

' ……..Raithwall's Tomb? At least a days full travel west, but you would be wise to take another day beyond that, no need to push yourself too hard in this heat.'

' Indeed. A shame you don't happen to have a herd of Chocobo for loan.'

'Oh, yes, think of that Dyce, a Chocobo farm out here! What fun.'

'……….I do not see why you left me with that…..that hateful traitor in the first place!'

'……………what kind of fiends are there out here, Basch?'

' Much the same as elsewhere in the Sandsea, though the Yensas can provide valuable loot.'

' Really like what?'

'…….and another thing, Vossler, it is hardly fitting for these children to be here. Penelo can be but sixteen years old.'

' Then, Princess, I suggest you raise this matter with your Pirate friends, it was my understanding that the boy, at least, travelled with them.'

' Balthier is no friend of mine! He is……'

'Fran?'

Fran turned towards the tentative voice, ' Yes Penelo?'

The young Hume girl stood a few feet away with her arms behind her back and a shy expression on her face.

' Umm, I was. I was wondering if I could talk to you?'

Fran did not point out the obvious, that they were already talking. Only three short years in Balthier's company and his viper tongue's bite had slithered into her thoughts already. So much so that it was sometimes difficult to keep that inherited venom from leeching into her speech.

' What is it you wish to speak of?'

Fran inclined her head slightly in invitation for Penelo to sit. The girl quickly did so, dropping down onto her knees resembling a marionette with strings suddenly severed.

' I'm tougher than I look.' The girl began keeping her head down as she pushed a small pebble around with her soft fingers.

' But I'm no fighter like Vaan.' The confession came out on a soft sigh of inner defeat.

Over Penelo's head Fran observed Balthier looking at her, the question in his slightly tilted head and raised eyebrow obvious. Did she wish him to intervene? Was Penelo disturbing her? Fran shook her head minutely and Balthier turned back to his discussion with Dyce about the Tomb.

' You have talent for magicks.' Fran responded when she felt Penelo watching her. Fran had spotted this potential in Penelo immediately.

It was often the female of the Hume species that had the most aptitude for magick. The Princess also had potential to be a gifted mage, though she turned her energy towards swordsmanship.

' Would you teach me?' Penelo blurted out suddenly. Fran looked blankly back at her, her blank look indistinguishable from her patient mask.

' Magick, I mean. I was thinking I could learn to use a bow, or a gun, so I could support Vaan and the others like you do.'

Penelo's words tripped over each other as she spoke hurriedly, her hands clasped together earnestly in her lap.

Fran inclined her head gracefully, ' I will teach you what Magicks I can in the time we have.'

Fran acquiesced though she thought that Penelo would be better off waiting until she returned to Rabanastre and learning from a Dalmascan mage. Fran did not think she and Balthier would be travelling with this odd party for very much longer, after all.

'Thank you Fran!' the girl clapped her hands, smiling hugely. 'You don't have to worry I'm a fast learner, not like Vaan.'

' However I think the bow may be too much for you, it is not an easy weapon to wield.'

' What about Guns?' Penelo asked eagerly, not the sort to be offended easily and sensible enough to recognise that that was not Fran's intent.

Fran shrugged an elegant shoulder, ' For that you must speak to Balthier.'

The girl shot a nervous glance over her shoulder to where Balthier stood hands at hips watching the campfire distractedly and trying to ignore Vaan who was waving his arms about in animated fashion.

' Oh, okay, I'll do that.' Penelo said though she sounded less certain of the prospect. Fran suspected Balthier's act of gallant distraction in giving the girl his handkerchief before they were carted off to Nalbina, had unsettled Penelo.

Fran sat quietly and watched the girl pick herself up and almost dance over to where Vaan and Basch and Balthier all stood huddled around the campfire.

Fran felt no desire to join them, she did not need to, Balthier's curious gaze settled on her briefly in warm regard before Basch asked him a question.

Penelo began telling Vaan the details of the conversation she and Fran had just had and Fran, returning to her passive eavesdropping felt a vicarious pleasure in their camaraderie.

She may never feel able to join them in their conversation and familiarity but, although she was apart from these Humes she found herself to still be a part of them.

It made her glad and it was this gladness that made her smile, ever so slightly, at Balthier when he looked over at her again. Sitting in the shadows, no one but he could see the smile. But see it he did.