Final Fantasy XII 1. The future's comin' in now

_There's a new sun  
Risin' up angry in the sky  
And there's a new voice  
Cryin' "We're not afraid to die!"  
Let the old world make believe  
It's blind and deaf and dumb  
But nothing can change the shape of things to come_

-Max Frost and the Troopers, "The Shape of Things to Come"

* * *

The sky pirate Balthier sighed as a few drops of bat blood stained his crisp white shirt. For someone as fastidious as he was, pillaging ancient and filthy tombs should not have been his first choice of career. At present, he and his Viera partner Fran were joined in the Tomb of Raithwall by Penelo. When he had entered the tomb for the first time a year ago, he had discovered a message carved into the wall. Balthier had gotten the message translated, and he had finally found the time to get back to the grave of the Dynast-King to claim a new treasure.

After discovering a remarkable cache of spoils in Bervenia, he and Fran had more than enough gil to retire, but one simply could not take the pirate out of the man. The pirating pair had only returned to the skies three months prior after their torturous Rozarrian imprisonment. Balthier felt that he had a lot of making up to do in terms of his work, so here they were in search of another bit of loot to add to their growing pile.

His beautiful partner felled another bat with her bow and turned to Balthier with a frown. "He was so excited to come along, and you left him at the door," she remarked.

Balthier shook his head. "Lookout is a very important job," he assured her, keeping his gun at the ready for any other beasts that sought to make their treasure hunting more difficult.

It had been Fran's idea to allow Vaan and Penelo to tag along on this mission, but Balthier didn't have to let Vaan claim all the loot. Though she was just as talkative, Balthier preferred Penelo's company to that of her mischievous friend. They had been trudging slowly through the tomb for nearly an hour in search of a passageway marked with a statue of a lion.

Their fighting became almost mechanical as they continued on their way through the ancient structure. The sky pirate allowed his mind to wander to some of the more pleasant memories he had of the past few months. Although he had been brainwashed to harm her, he had been cured and was presently engaged in a very enticing relationship with Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.

As soon as they nabbed the treasure in old Raithwall's Tomb, the pirate had it in mind to pay her a visit. It had been nearly a week since they had last seen one another, and he longed to feel the softness of her body beneath his fingers. He thought of the curve of her hips, the delicate skin of her stomach, how he couldn't wait to visit those places with his tongue…

He was startled out of his pleasing thoughts by a swooping fiend, and Fran's arrow found its mark before Balthier could even aim his gun. The Viera shook her head in amusement, and he could tell she knew the direction of his current daydreaming.

"I will not do that for you again," she warned him, and they proceeded down a steep stairway to move deeper into the structure. The sky pirate winked at his partner, and added more bullets to his gun.

Penelo sighed and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "Are you sure there's something here?" she asked, stopping a moment to catch her breath.

Balthier perched his gun on his shoulder and took out the small piece of parchment with its translation. "Head of lion seek you out, beyond the stairs of alabaster white…" he read in irritation, "I hate these blasted riddles. They can't just tell you to go past the white stairs to find the lion's head, can they?"

Fran's eyes narrowed in concentration. "I see some sort of grotesque carving on the wall there," she noted, pointing to a small projecting figure ahead of them.

Balthier looked at the steps they had just come down. He supposed that in the tomb's heyday they had been alabaster white, but now they were a moldy gray. The trio approached the figure and looked around for some sign of a passageway. It had clearly been a lion at some point, but the wall was smooth and the same as any other part around it. Balthier pressed his hands against the wall, looking for a hidden switch.

Penelo knelt down and poked a protruding stone with the tip of her dagger. There was a rumbling sound from deep beyond the wall, and the stone began to crumble. The pirates stepped back as the wall gave way, revealing a hidden path.

Balthier patted Penelo on the shoulder. "You'll make a fine pirate someday. Very observant." The girl smiled at his approval, and they continued forward through the new path.

Luckily no fiends had managed to work their way this deeply into the tomb, and the sky pirates were grateful for the respite. Balthier again read the translated words, a frown beginning to cross his face.

"What are we looking for?" Penelo asked cheerfully, excited to be along for the journey. Balthier knew how jealous Vaan would be, and he couldn't wait to see the look on the young man's face when they emerged triumphant.

"We're looking for a statue of a basilisk next," he announced, his brow furrowing at the archaic wording of the translated text.

They only saw the long passageway ahead of them, trailing away into darkness. Fran smirked unhappily. "We will be walking for hours at this rate."

Balthier turned to her and gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. "Come now, Fran. I paid a great deal of gil for this translation. I'm sure it's up here somewhere."

His partner regarded him cynically. "I think you may have been swindled," she muttered, pushing cobwebs out of her path.

The sky pirate chuckled. "As always, your undying loyalty and devotion make this all worthwhile." They continued walking for several minutes when they finally encountered an archway along the side of the passage. The group emerged into a large room with a vaulted ceiling, and Balthier turned to fix Fran with a triumphant look.

His partner's face fell, and she shook her head in irritation. "A statue of a basilisk was it?" she groaned. To Balthier's annoyance, the walls along either side of the room were lined with at least twenty statues each.

And they were all statues of basilisks.

No matter, the sky pirate thought, encouraging himself. He patted a disappointed Penelo on the shoulder and considered the parchment again. "Well it says there is a false wall behind a basilisk statue, so we test the walls behind each." Fran sighed and began squeezing behind one of the statues to pound on the wall with her fist.

Penelo skipped ahead to tap the panels further down the wall, and Balthier started the search on the wall opposite them. He smacked the stone wall with the butt of his gun and heard only muffled noise. No echo to indicate a hollowed out wall.

The three companions examined the walls for several minutes until there was a loud crashing noise and a victorious squeal from Penelo. "I found it!" she exclaimed and jumped aside quickly to avoid the collapsing stone.

Balthier hurried over to examine the area. A room had been revealed, no bigger than his own cabin on the Strahl. There was an old wooden chest visible against the far wall, and he knelt down to examine the lock.

He heard pounding footsteps behind him, and then Vaan's voice calling out. "Are you guys in here?" he cried, rushing into the basilisk room.

The sky pirate shook his head in disgust. He removed a small metal tool to begin picking the lock as Vaan began yammering about something or other. Balthier fiddled with the lock, chastising the young man's arrival. "Vaan, what did I tell you?"

The boy stood behind him and put his hands on his hips. "But Balthier…"

The lock clicked open, and the pirate tossed it aside. "What did I tell you?" he repeated.

"Not to leave my spot," Vaan muttered, craning over Balthier's shoulder to peer into the treasure chest.

"And you have done exactly that," he scolded, opening the lid of the chest. His eyes widened in excitement at the treasure held within: a glittering crown encrusted with shiny jewels. He could hear Vaan's talking grind to a halt behind him at the sight of the treasure. It would fetch a marvelous price in the Rabanastre markets. He lifted the crown from the chest and placed it atop his own head. "I doubt old Raithwall's coming back for this trinket," he said with a smile.

Balthier slammed the empty chest shut and stood up, seeing Penelo giggle and Fran roll her eyes at the crown settled crookedly on his head. Vaan finally stopped gaping at the uncovered treasure and found words. "There's something going on outside! The sand people are rushing into the temple grounds!"

Penelo gasped. "What? Why?"

Fran approached Vaan. "But the Urutan-Yensa never leave the sandsea. Are you sure?"

Vaan was still trying to catch his breath from his long journey into the inner reaches of the tomb. "I know what I saw. They looked like they had been in a fight and were running here to hide. None of them even tried to attack me. They just came into the courtyard and collapsed."

Balthier hurried Vaan and the others out of the small treasure room, and he straightened the crown on his head. Penelo turned to him, confusion riddling her features. "What should we do?"

He looked to Fran, and she looked equally confused. "We get the hell out of here," he replied, and the four companions hurried out of the ancient tomb. When they emerged, the courtyard was overrun with dozens of sandsea dwellers. Many of them were heavily bloodied, laying on the ground and panting. Still more of their people were pouring into the courtyard, but none of them tried to attack the party as they came out of the tomb.

The group rushed to where the Strahl was moored just beside the temple, and they boarded quickly. The sky pirate tossed the crown onto his bunk and joined the others in the cockpit. He and Fran readied the airship for take-off as their friends stared out into the courtyard. "There must be over a hundred Urutan in here. What is going on?" Penelo wondered, clutching the back of Fran's seat.

"We can fly over the sandsea and find out," Balthier answered, flipping a few switches on the console in front of him. This was troubling indeed, he thought. The sandsea people were very territorial and kept to their lands. Something incredible must have been happening to send them fleeing beyond their borders.

The Strahl ascended into the air, and Balthier piloted the ship east towards the Nam-Yensa sandsea. If the devastation visible in the courtyard had been surprising, the sights the party now witnessed in the Urutan's home were beyond belief. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere, the sand dunes drenched with crimson blood. Balthier winced at the number of bodies floating along in the sea of shimmering sand crystals as the Strahl flew over the area. Several of the long abandoned oil drilling towers were ablaze, the smoke climbing high into the skies.

The party saw nothing but corpses for nearly an hour, and they remained silent at the devastation. Who would attack the Urutan? The extent of the destruction was clearly a calculated plan, not a simple skirmish. As they reached the bordering area between the Nam-Yensa and Ogir-Yensa, Vaan suddenly gasped, pointing ahead of them.

Balthier slowed the airship, and the party witnessed a massive battle in progress. A group of Urutan huddled together, their weapons at the ready. Across from them was a swarming mob of the Baknamy people, the inhabitants of the Nabreus Deadlands. The guns and hand bombs of the Baknamy were making short work of the Urutan's arrows, the smaller sand people falling down in droves at the attack. The Baknamy were merciless, slaughtering the Urutan and slashing at the fallen with daggers.

Penelo stepped to the back of the cockpit, horrified and unable to watch. A loud boom was heard, and Fran's eyes widened. "They have spotted us!" she cried, and Balthier saw a large ball of fire hurtling upwards towards the Strahl.

Balthier reached behind him to shove Vaan down into a seat. "Hold on tight, this could get a bit bumpy!" he ordered and steered the airship hard right to avoid the launched attack from the ground. The bomb exploded, missing the ship but sending out a shockwave that rattled the entire vessel. As soon as they were in the clear, he gunned the engines, and the Strahl rocketed away, heading back for Rabanastre.

"The Baknamy have never been organized like this," Fran said, deep in thought. "What could have possessed them to leave the ruins of Nabudis to attack the Urutan?"

Balthier shook his head. "Not a clue. But the Urutan are getting massacred. We're going straight to the palace to tell Ashe," he replied. The sky pirate could see it now: hurrying into the Queen's chambers to relate word of the horrific battle, the Queen fainting in shock at the news, her valiant lover awakening her with a kiss…

"How selfless and heroic. Your concern for the sand people is to be admired," his partner replied with a smirk. Fran would always see right through him. The ship continued on its eastern course as they flew away from the sandsea.

* * *

The Queen of Dalmasca sat to breakfast, but could not bring herself to eat. There was far too much to worry about, and she really had no time to dally at the dining table. Her chief minister, Tylo Echarna, nudged a plate of eggs towards the young woman.

"Your Highness will not make it through the day without eating something. Please, we have everything taken care of," the older man noted with a grin. Ashe solemnly accepted the food and began poking at it with her fork as Minister Echarna departed the breakfast room.

After months in the works, her dream of a peace council was complete. The long weeks of chartering the council had finally ended, and the first formal meeting of the group was to begin the following day. Representatives from nearly every corner of Ivalice were arriving in Rabanastre, and Ashe had been volunteered to open the meeting and suggest an agenda for the very first summit. Dalmasca would be the host for the first year of council meetings, and she had spent every waking hour over the past week analyzing the political situation in Ivalice.

The Queen's first order of business was a rather personal one, but something she felt was long overdue. Her friend and confidante, Basch fon Ronsenburg, was to finally be recognized for his contributions to lasting peace in Ivalice, and he would be formally parted from his assumed role in Archadia. For the past several months, he had posed as his brother, Judge Gabranth, but now that Archadia had fully embraced Larsa Solidor's rule, he could once again claim his own name. Ashe knew that many in Dalmasca still were uneasy with the idea of an honor ceremony for the man still considered a traitor in some quarters. She hoped that a formal recognition would soften some hearts. Basch was to continue in his role at Larsa's court, but on his own terms.

The judge magister was currently enjoying breakfast with the Queen, and since his arrival, Ashe had noticed an uneasiness settling over her friend. She gave him a small grin and watched him munch on his breakfast. "I see that you are nervous about tomorrow's recognition," she said sympathetically.

Basch shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Though I am grateful for both your Majesty and Lord Larsa's encouragement of this ceremony, I would rather not be the object of such adoration. I fulfilled my oath to my brother, and I would continue that aim in his stead. I do not require any honors."

Ashe smiled at the man's constant humility. She sipped some water and looked over a long sheet of notes she had prepared. Aside from the well-deserved recognition for Basch, the Queen's main goal at this summit was the consideration of what was quickly being referred to as "The Nabradia Question".

Since the destruction of Nabudis nearly three years prior, the Nabradian people had been scattered to the corners of Ivalice. Ashe wanted to discuss the creation of a new homeland within unused Archadian territory. Although Ashe knew she would have Larsa's full support, Basch did not see it as an acceptable solution to the rest of the Empire.

The knight watched her peruse her notes, and he sighed. "You will press on with the Nabradia issue?" he inquired, cutting into a piece of meat with his knife.

"Archades, Rabanastre and Nalbina still overflow with people three years later. These people need a home to return to. I cannot give them Nabudis, but surely there is plenty of land in Archadia that would be a fine home for them," she explained for what felt like the thousandth time. Her council had also discouraged her, but Ashe would not be deterred.

"And I would agree wholeheartedly. I would see both Nabradia and Landis restored if I could make it so, but the Archadian nobility would never cede their land, no matter the reason," he replied sadly.

"But no one lives there!" Ashe complained, "The nobles own the land, but they do not use it! It merely keeps them at the top of society when it could be converted to farms for starving families!"

Basch could offer no further argument, and he returned to his meal in silence. Ashe shoved her plate away angrily and rose from her seat. She would proudly share Dalmascan land if she had any to give, but a country made mostly of sand would not be a welcoming home to the wandering thousands.

She stared out the window at her capital city. Rabanastre was buzzing with the beginning of another scorching day, the people bustling through the bazaar. She could see workers in the courtyards below hanging up banners of all the peoples of Ivalice, and it warmed her heart to see the activity. Ashe was determined to make her case tomorrow if she had to argue until she collapsed. It was up to the Archadians from there. She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Basch looked into her eyes sympathetically.

"Your Majesty could make a river change its course with a glance, but I still suspect this argument cannot be settled so easily," he uttered. The knight removed his hand from her shoulder and cleared his throat. "I know you have another motive for this restoration. It is written as clear as day across your face."

She frowned and returned her gaze to the courtyards beneath her window. "When Nabudis fell, Rasler could not be there. He instead fought for Dalmasca and died for her. I only wish to bring some semblance of Nabradia back. Doing so would give me peace." Though years had gone by, the loss of her husband, Rasler Heios Nabradia, still affected her. She felt that she owed it to the brave man's memory to try and restore the homeland he had lost.

Basch nodded. "It would ease my burdens as well. It would be a fitting tribute to Lord Rasler and his kin as it would be to all those who called Nabudis home." They stood in silence, both remembering the lost heir of Nabradia.

Minister Echarna reentered as the breakfast plates were being cleared away. "Your Majesty, Minister Rabon will be unable to represent Mount Bur-Omisace at the summit. He has fallen ill, I'm afraid."

Ashe turned to the older man and shook her head sadly. "Minister Rabon will surely be the next Gran Kiltias. With his assistance we could have pushed through the Nabradian issue. Well, has another representative for the kiltias and refugees been sent in his place?"

Tylo nodded and stepped aside, signaling to someone in the hallway. A tall man clothed in the simple garb of a penitent acolyte entered, a hood covering his head. He approached her and Basch and knelt down humbly.

The man pulled back the hood to reveal a head of messy brown hair. He looked up into her eyes and gave her a small smile. "It is good to see you after all these years, Ashelia."

Ashe's hand flew to her mouth in surprise at her visitor. She could hear Basch inhale sharply at the new representative as well. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost.

The Queen bade the man to stand up, and she embraced him. "My Gods, Erran. Is it really you?" she asked.

The man nodded, and it was as if she were a young girl again. Basch shook hands with the new visitor as Ashe struggled to regain her composure. But it was almost as if she had in fact seen a ghost. The man standing before her was Erran Heios Nabradia, cousin to her late husband and a member of the Nabradian royal house. Though of a darker complexion than Rasler, his noble features clearly identified him as a member of that clan. He was a few years older than her, but he had always treated her with kindness during her visits to Nabudis before and after her betrothal to his cousin. Ashe had thought him dead along with the rest of Rasler's family. What miracle had kept him alive?

Ashe had so many questions to ask him, she didn't know where to start. "I cannot believe you are still alive! I thought you had perished at Nabudis with the rest…" she began, ushering him to a seat at her table.

Erran appeared uncomfortable at the inquiry, but he answered solemnly. "I fled Nabudis at the request of my uncle, your husband's father. I was to go on to Rabanastre to tell of the Archadian invasion, but my party was attacked, and I was knocked out. A traveling caravan found me and brought me to Mount Bur-Omisace. That is where I have resided since the fall of my home."

Basch could sense the sadness in the man's voice, but Ashe had the same question lingering in her mind. He broached the topic gently. "Why did you not try to reclaim Nabradia in all this time? Surely you knew of her Majesty's own attempts to overthrow Archadia?"

The man nodded in agreement. "I saw you both when you visited the Gran Kiltias several months ago. But you cannot know the shame I felt. I fled Nabudis in her time of greatest need when I should have been there to defend her. And then by the time I awakened in Kerwon, Dalmasca had fallen and for all I knew, your entire line had perished as well, my lady. A coward such as I could lay no claim to my homeland."

Ashe patted his hand in support. "Well that is all past now. I am so glad to see you alive. When did we last speak?"

A smile emerged on the man's face, making him look much younger. "At your wedding. All of our hopes went with you that day, and if Rasler was alive today, he would be proud of your many accomplishments," he said, causing Ashe to look down in humility.

Seeing her embarrassment, Erran shifted the topic. "I am honored to be here to represent the Kiltias. They have been a second family to me."

An idea dawned on the Queen at that moment as the last surviving member of the Nabradian royal line sat right in front of her. How did she not think of this immediately? "Lord Erran, I would like you to attend dinner with me tonight. I have a proposal regarding Nabradia that I think you might like to hear."

Basch shook his head and laughed at her refusal to back down on the Nabradia question, and Erran appeared puzzled. "I am here for the interests of Mount Bur-Omisace, your Highness, but I would be honored to join you this evening. Perhaps we can discuss more than politics. I would like to hear about how my cousin misbehaved when he was here in Rabanastre." Erran and Rasler had been a pair of tricksters, Ashe remembered. Noble and brave to a fault, but very inclined to tease young visiting princesses from other lands.

Ashe grinned at the memory. It would be a pleasant distraction to reminisce about better days with someone who actually could understand her. And what's more, what better way to propose a restoration of Nabradia than to present a man who was the sole remaining heir to it? Surely the fates had smiled upon her that day.

She turned to make further plans for the evening when she heard the unexpected noise of an airship landing in her courtyard. Ashe hurried to the window and smiled inwardly at the sight of the Strahl settling down outside. He always has to make some lavish entrance, she mused as the newly hung banners flew off of their poles.

Several servants began racing about the courtyard to try and snatch back the banners. Ashe saw her head gardener running to curse at the airship that had just destroyed his meticulously arranged flower beds as the Strahl's hatch opened and her friends raced out. The ship's captain, on the other hand, walked with his usual swagger, paying no mind to the chaos he was creating in her palace gardens.

The Queen folded her arms across her chest and gave Basch a grin. "It would appear that the pirates have returned."


	2. Changes lyin' ahead

Balthier was greeted with a rather sour look by Ashe's minister. The pirate figured the old man was on to his activities with the Queen, but it would be out of line for him to say anything. Or perhaps this time Tylo Echarna's disdainful expression was for the unauthorized landing in the royal palace gardens? No matter the reason, Balthier had allowed Fran to smooth things over and requested an audience with Her Royal Majesty.

The party was en route to the Queen's dining room where she was apparently breakfasting with Basch and some representative from Mount Bur-Omisace. Balthier would never be able to understand how Ashe could spend day and night talking politics, but he knew deep down that the young woman had an inherent knack for talking the talk of alliances and negotiation. He would have to wait until later that night for a private audience with her Highness that would not entail peace conferences or discussions of taxation policy.

The Royal Palace of Rabanastre never ceased to amuse the sky pirate. He had become intimately acquainted with all the places that were lightly patrolled over the past few months. The hallway to his left? One guard, every twenty minutes. The room to his right? A mural on the wall could be gently nudged and would open to a secret stair that led directly to the Queen's bedchamber. And his personal favorite? A rug on the floor of the breakfasting room he was about to enter. Pull back the rug and there was a small wooden hatch. Proceed down a rickety old staircase to an abandoned storage room. He grinned at the memory of a night in that room a few weeks back as Minister Echarna opened the door and led them inside.

"Master Bunansa and party, your Highness," Tylo announced, ushering the four companions into the dining hall. Vaan and Penelo raced over to say hello to Basch as Fran entered and bowed her head to Ashe. Balthier would have none of that and walked right up to the Queen. He went down on one knee and took her hand in what he supposed was a very proper and gallant gesture.

"My lady," he intoned softly, relishing the feel of her soft hand within his own. Somehow a week away from this woman felt like an eternity, and he delighted in the flowery scent of her perfume that hung delicately in the air. Balthier kissed her hand, allowing his lips to linger for a few moments too long.

He smiled as he heard Basch clear his throat beside them. The sky pirate moved his eyes up to meet Ashe's, and he was amused by the irritated look on her face. Her eyes were like sharp daggers, demanding he cease his little display and stand up. Balthier also imagined that wearing Raithwall's crown into her dining room was a bit uncalled for.

Fran spoke first. "We come with great haste, your Majesty," she said as Balthier rose to his feet and shifted the crown on his head, giving Basch a wink. The older man shook his head at the pirate's entrance.

Vaan looked from Basch to the Queen and explained the events they had just witnessed hours earlier. He spoke quickly, eager to relate the troubling news to Ashe. "There's fighting in the sandsea! The Baknamy attacked the Urutan. They were getting annihilated, Ashe! Then they tried to fire at us…"

Ashe held up a hand to silence the young man. "Vaan, slow down. Did you say the Baknamy?"

The boy nodded and opened his mouth to continue talking, but Basch was confused. "But they never leave the Deadlands…"

The Viera strode forward and explained in a calmer manner than the young man. "They appear to be on the warpath. The entire sandsea is under attack. It would not surprise me if the Urutan were wholly wiped out."

Another man, the representative from Mount Bur-Omisace Balthier surmised, turned to question Fran. "The Baknamy have infested the Deadlands since the fall of Nabudis. They were never aggressive outside of their own territory. How came they to be so organized?"

Balthier turned to the other man and regarded him skeptically. How would an acolyte of Kiltia know so much about Baknamy behavior? "I don't believe we've been introduced?" he asked calmly.

The sky pirate was surprised when the man knelt before him and bowed his head. "Erran Heios Nabradia, my lord." Balthier could not understand the elaborate gesture until he saw Ashe point to her head, indicating the crown on his own head.

Balthier smiled and offered his hand to the man. Basch gave him a chastising look and spoke to the diplomat. "You need not kneel before this pirate, Lord Erran. He merely plays at kingship today."

Erran stood and appeared embarrassed, but Balthier clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "I'm sorry, friend. It is true what they say. Just returned from Raithwall's tomb with this delightful bit of treasure."

Penelo looked to Erran with wonder. "Did you say your name was Nabradia?"

The man smiled at the girl's question and nodded. Ashe stepped forward, pulling the crown off of Balthier's head with a satisfied tug. She handed it to Fran and addressed Penelo. "Yes. Lord Erran was cousin to Lord Rasler."

"But I thought they were all dead," Vaan uttered, but was silenced with an elbow to the stomach from Penelo.

Erran gave Vaan a small smile. "You are not wrong to question me. I am the sole survivor of my family. But I represent the interests of the refugees at Mount Bur-Omisace now. All that remains of my old life is my name."

Ashe returned the conversation to the events in the sandsea. "We must help the Urutan. We could probably have troops there and on the ground by the afternoon," she began, thinking out loud.

"Ashe, you know the Urutan would never accept help from Humes," Balthier explained, and he received a very curious look from Erran at his casual use of the Queen's first name. The sky pirate could see the Nabradian visibly struggle to hold his tongue.

Fran could sense the awkward tension and addressed Ashe herself. "Your Highness, even if you were to offer assistance, I am not sure it would be of any use. The Baknamy's attack was quick and decisive. There was no sign of any trouble when we arrived at the tomb yesterday, and when we returned, the sandsea was in chaos."

Penelo agreed. "I don't know if there are any Urutan to save. There were so many dead, Ashe," she noted sadly. Balthier noticed that Erran had no reaction to the children's informal tone, and he would remember to be careful around the man from then on. Was the connection between the Queen and himself that transparent, he wondered.

The Queen shook her head. "We must do something. At the very least, we will send out airships to scout the sandsea in search of survivors. Perhaps we could dispatch an emissary to quell the Baknamy's wrath. I do not know why they would launch such an attack."

Erran concurred with Ashe's plan. "If there are survivors, I am sure they would be welcome at Mount Bur-Omisace. But it remains to be seen if the Urutan would agree to such an offer."

Balthier was unsure about the second part of the Queen's proposal. "As to the Baknamy, I do not know if emissaries would be best. They tried to blow the Strahl out of the skies."

The Queen considered all of this and turned to her minister. "Tylo, I want ships in the air immediately with Moogle translators. Load half with medical supplies and the others leave empty in case any survivors seek refuge. I expect a full report on the extent of the destruction by nightfall." The minister nodded and left the room.

"Can the Strahl be of any assistance?" Fran inquired, and Balthier wanted to throttle the Viera for her volunteering spirit.

Ashe smiled at his partner and nodded. "It would be greatly appreciated. The more ships we have in the skies, the more we may be able to understand what has happened. That is…if her captain doesn't mind?"

Balthier offered a grumbling snort in agreement, and Vaan and Penelo asked to tag along too. Simply wonderful. Now that he was back in Rabanastre, he longed to kick back with an ale at the Sandsea and convince some greedy merchant that Raithwall's crown was worth far more than it truly was. This excursion would be a real damper on his plans, not to mention his desire to remain in the Queen's presence.

Ashe bid them all farewell, and they departed for the courtyard to head back the way they had just come. Balthier rolled his eyes at his partner as they boarded. "Next time you're feeling helpful, perhaps you could volunteer someone else's ship."

He could tell Fran was suppressing a smile. "What we do is right," she replied as they prepared the Strahl to take off again.

Vaan had managed to snatch the crown away from the Viera at some point and now paraded around the cockpit. "What do you think, Penelo? Could I pass for King Raithwall?"

Balthier smirked deviously as he gunned the engines and the Strahl took off as quickly as possible, sending Vaan sprawling to the back of the cockpit. "Terribly sorry, Vaan," he lied, "might want to strap in." The Strahl raced off into the west once again, leaving Rabanastre behind.

* * *

The Queen sprawled on her stomach and shut her eyes. She pressed her cheek against her pillow and longed for sleep to come. Her day had started out so uneventful, but things seemed to have a knack for getting out of hand quickly. Erran's unexpected arrival, followed by word of the Baknamy attack had taken her mind completely away from the council meeting to come, and she now knew that her hopes for a discussion of Nabradia would have to be postponed in favor of the events in the sandsea.

Reports had come in over the course of the entire day, and the extent of the fighting had been catastrophic. As the first Dalmascan ships arrived in the Ogir-Yensa, the Baknamy were already hurrying back north to their territory. It puzzled the Queen why they would simply attack and then retreat rather than conquer. What were they after?

All of the Urutan survivors had refused assistance and would not even accept medical supplies from Rabanastre, to Ashe's dismay. The Moogle translators reported that the Urutan survivors were moving to more isolated pockets of the sandsea already, withdrawing in defeat. Though she remembered facing the sand people in combat herself, it broke her heart to learn that their race had nearly been exterminated.

The airships returned with word of the massive number of corpses floating about in the soft sand, the dunes splattered with blood of Baknamy and Urutan alike. It appeared that the sand dwellers were taking care of their fallen, but the Baknamy had left their dead behind to rot. Ashe had no idea what to do about that, knowing that negotiations with either people would resolve nothing. Both humanoid races had refused to participate in the peace council, so there was no initiative Ashe could pass that would be followed by those peoples.

The following day would see Dalmascan ships fighting fires in the sandsea and attempting to gauge a final count of those lost. While the Urutan's course from here was fairly certain, Ashe did not know what to think about the Baknamy. What was the meaning of their attack? Her mind raced with these thoughts as she attempted to let sleep claim her for the night. Of course, her companion would not allow such a thing.

He was presently laying on his side, his elbow bent with his hand holding up his head. "You can't go to sleep yet," he complained, giving her a gentle poke in the arm.

She grunted into her pillow. "I'm tired, Balthier," she muttered, her voice muffled.

Ashe could almost visualize the wicked grin he surely wore on his face now. "You flatter me, your Highness. Our latest exertions were enough to tucker me out as well. Don't you women prefer to gab a bit afterwards though?"

The Queen removed her face from the pillow and turned her head to gaze at the sky pirate, struggling to stifle a yawn. "Very funny. But it's been a long day, and tomorrow will be even worse."

He laughed and let his fingers trail up and down the bare skin of her back, his touch doing a fine job of keeping her awake. "I missed you too, my lady. I had to spend my entire day with Vaan and Penelo chattering like a couple of parrots. You will kindly allow me to enjoy my time with you before you start snoring."

She smiled and shifted onto her side to mimic his current position. She had missed him terribly this entire week, her bed seeming cold and empty without him. Though he always managed to slip away before she awoke in the morning, it was a joy to fall asleep with him by her side. The past few months had been some of the happiest of her life, and definitely some of the most exciting since Balthier managed to find a different way to slip into her bedchamber every time.

Ashe reached out a hand to ruffle the pirate's hair. "You certainly managed to misbehave this morning," she teased, remembering his little trick with the stolen crown from King Raithwall's tomb.

"I misbehaved?" he replied incredulously, "You were the one who had another man to supper without my consent."

Ashe rolled her eyes at him. "You do not sit on my council of ministers, so I do not require your permission to dine with a diplomat. We were discussing the possibility of Lord Erran taking charge of any land that would reestablish Nabradian sovereignty."

"What does his lordship think of your plan?" he inquired, his fingers brushing the skin of her arm.

"He was willing to hear me out, but I'm not so sure he wants to rule. He feels guilty for leaving Nabudis, so he feels unworthy of claiming the throne," she admitted.

The dinner had gone well enough that evening, but Erran had seemed very fidgety about the idea of leaving Mount Bur-Omisace permanently. He mentioned over and over his duty to the Kiltias who had shown him kindness, but Ashe felt that she would have a better chance of convincing the council if an actual Nabradian heir ruled a new territory.

"It must be nice for you to see a familiar face after all these years," Balthier replied, letting his fingers trace lazy circles up and down her arm.

Ashe grinned at memories of years long gone. "He was a few years older than Rasler and me. I only knew him as the boy who liked to hide frogs in my belongings when I visited Nabudis." She could still remember the triumphant look he and Rasler shared when she ran screaming out of her guest room at the Verdpale Palace, the two young men falling over laughing at her squeamishness.

Balthier's eyes sparkled at the new knowledge. "And you were afraid? The mighty Ashelia B'Nargin affected by a mere frog? Well, I for one hope Lord Erran continues the tradition. I'd love to see the look on your face if a frog jumps onto your lap during one of your dreadful council meetings."

She frowned, getting a bit lost in her thoughts. "He looks so much like Rasler. I don't know how anyone at Mount Bur-Omisace never questioned who he was."

The sky pirate moved his hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb comfortingly. "You traveled Ivalice without being recognized. I'm sure it was the same situation for him. People don't expect dead aristocrats to be wandering amongst their ranks."

Ashe nodded at his explanation and sat up, propping herself up against her pillow. "So what is your opinion of Lord Erran?" she asked innocently, trying to gauge Balthier's reaction.

Balthier flopped onto his back, interlacing his fingers beneath his head. "Am I supposed to have one?" he inquired, a tinge of irritation beneath the attempted nonchalant answer.

She grinned at his poorly veiled attempt to appear unmoved. "I knew it. You're jealous," she replied.

His eyes darted sideways to lock onto hers. "Jealous? How could I be jealous? He shares a meal at the Queen's table. I share the Queen's bed…"

Ashe groaned and pulled her pillow from behind her back and gave the pirate a solid thrashing with it. She heard a deep chortling laughter emerge from his throat as she continued her assault, and it made her smile. "Truce! Truce, I said!" was his muffled response as he tried seizing the pillow from her hands.

Balthier finally snatched the pillow away and tossed it aside. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her down onto the bed. He leaned over her and gave her a quick kiss, letting his fingers caress her wrists as he held her down.

"You're awfully confident, aren't you?" she replied, looking up into his face. Though she had been exhausted minutes earlier, he always managed to find ways of keeping her interest. Anything to keep her mind off of the devastation in the sandsea, though, was rather welcome to the Queen that night.

The sky pirate winked at her and let the fingers of one hand leave her wrist and trail down the side of her body, teasing her. "Would you have me any other way?" he remarked as she let herself enjoy the sensations.

"No, I wouldn't," she muttered, trying to meet his lips with her own. He hit a sensitive spot with his fingers, and she jerked about at the tickling feeling.

He chuckled softly at her reaction. "You know, Highness. You have yet to congratulate me on my triumph in Raithwall's tomb."

Ashe moved her hand down to stay his hand at her waist. "Didn't we just…celebrate that a short time ago?" He certainly was being greedy this evening, she thought to herself.

Balthier shook his head. "That was more of an 'I missed you' sort of celebration. No, I want the Queen of Dalmasca to honor the valiant sky pirate for retrieving an object of undoubted importance and value."

"You mean grave robber," she argued, moving her fingers to dance across the bare skin of his back.

He kissed her slowly, letting his lips linger against her own for several moments. "Call it whatever you like," he whispered against her mouth.

Ashe supposed she would just have to fall asleep on Balthier's schedule that evening.


	3. Old realities

Ashe awoke the following morning to an empty bed. She stretched out a hand to feel the other half of the mattress and found it already cool. She shook her head and set about on her morning routine. Her ladies dressed her, and she took her breakfast in her room. The council meeting would begin that afternoon, so she only had a few hours to go over the newly arrived reports from the sandsea.

The first airships had just arrived back in Rabanastre after a second day of monitoring the Urutan situation. There was no population census of any sort to compare to for the Urutan since they were fairly unorganized. But if the Queen was reading correctly, the estimated losses totaled in the thousands, and the enormity of the situation left her terrified. In just a day, the entire race of sand people had nearly ceased to be.

She had also sent a small exploratory group of ships to patrol the air around Nabudis, and Larsa had done the same. However, those ships would not be able to report back for at least another day, so she had no way of knowing if the Baknamy were satisfied with their path of destruction. Dalmascan troops were en route to the Westersand to make sure any trade caravans were protected, and security was being heightened throughout Rabanastre.

But would it be enough? With no real discernible motive behind the Baknamy attack, there was no way to possibly protect her entire country, and it severely distressed her. There was a soft knock at her door, and an airship pilot was escorted in, his arms full of papers.

"Captain Romanes of the Highwind at your service, your Majesty," the man introduced himself, bowing humbly before her. He was the leader of the airship fleet, and Ashe could tell by his severe look that he was not the bearer of happy news.

"Yes, Captain. Thank you for returning so quickly. How do our efforts proceed in the sandsea?" she inquired, standing to greet him.

"We have men on the ground trying to…take care of the bodies, my lady. The fires in the drilling stations will burn for days, and we're doing our best to put them out. It is just a matter of time and manpower. Lord Larsa's ships should be joining our forces before the day is over. No further sign of the Baknamy to report, but there is something that we could not understand, Majesty," Romanes explained, offering the stack of papers to her.

Ashe took the papers and set them out on her breakfasting table, scrutinizing them. There were lists of fires, lists of the areas hardest hit, but something at the top of the pile caught her eye right away. It was some sort of hand-drawn picture, but she did not know what it was. "This drawing…is it some kind of bird?" she asked, trying to turn the parchment to get the best angle.

"If I may," the Captain requested humbly, adjusting the picture in her hands. "We think it's some kind of bird, yes. It was on several of the drilling stations. We couldn't see it yesterday because of the fires, but when we started putting some out, we could see this had been painted onto them. I had one of my men copy it as best he could."

The Queen examined the drawing more carefully. It was a vicious looking bird with its wings extended and talons curved as if it was ready to snatch some prey off of the ground. What could it mean? "Did the Baknamy draw this?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, your Majesty. It was painted in…well, it was painted in blood."

Ashe set the horrific drawing down on the table at Captain Romanes' explanation. "Thank you, Captain. That will be all for now."

The man bowed to her and exited the room quietly. What message were they trying to convey with such a drawing? And why would the Baknamy have any message to send? Their murderous intent was made clear enough with their butchering of the Urutan.

She still had a few moments before she had to make her way to the council meeting, so she sat down at the table and glanced over the rest of the reports. The extent of the destruction was unbelievable. At the very least, the Urutan were all fighters, and every one of them she had encountered on her journey fought to the very last.

But what if the Baknamy turned their hatred on a place like Rabanastre? Her military could only patrol so much, and her citizens were not trained soldiers. They were a peace-loving nation. Ashe hoped there was some way to reach out to the Baknamy and urge them to cease their hostilities. She prayed that this was just some isolated incident, but somehow she had a feeling that it wasn't, based on the vicious nature of the attack on the sandsea.

She took the image of the bird in her hand again, committing its likeness to her memory. She could not even fathom how horrifying the sight of it painted in blood would look. Her eyes looked at the bird's head, its beak open. It would probably scream if the image came to life. It was the bird's feet that drew her attention the most. The way the talons curved reminded her of a sharp scythe or sickle. She thought of the Baknamy's blades slicing into the Urutan, cutting the sand people to pieces. The Urutan had children, Ashe thought sadly. They would never grow up.

Ashe shook her head and slammed the piece of parchment down onto the table in anger. She wanted to rip the picture to shreds, but she knew she had to bring it to the council to see if anyone recognized it. But she did not expect much to come of it. The Baknamy were universally reviled throughout Ivalice as thieves and murderers, as outsiders who would not be civilized.

Not many people actively studied their culture, and most assumed they didn't really have a culture. Before they stole away to the ruins of Nabudis, they never came into the cities, always living out in the wilderness. Ashe herself knew very little about them, and she did not remember any bird insignia on their clothing or weaponry.

Though they were a small people, they fought relentlessly, and Ashe herself remembered the harsh cracking of their guns as she and her friends wandered the Deadlands. Although they did not spend much time there on their journey, she remembered the place as a bleak, unforgiving wasteland. It was a hollow shell of the once beautiful city of Nabudis. The air was suffocating, and the Baknamy wore masks to deal with the Mist-laden air.

They snuck about in small packs, using some sort of concealing magick so they could attack when one least expected it. It was that trick that Ashe supposed enabled them to sneak into the sandsea en masse. It was also her biggest concern. How easily could they sneak somewhere else using that magick?

One of her ladies entered. "Your Highness. It's time." Ashe nodded and gathered up the papers Captain Romanes had delivered. She placed the bird picture at the bottom, not wanting to look at it another second until she had to show it to everyone. She set her emotions aside and marched down to the meeting confidently. She had to be a leader at this very first meeting, and nothing would destroy her resolve.

* * *

"I'm telling you, this was in Raithwall's tomb! I'm not trying to fool you. Look at this, would you? It's clearly Galtean era. Look at the incising on that part!"

The Bangaa merchant shook his head. "If what you're saying is even remotely true, I wouldn't have enough gil to pay you a fraction of its worth. That piece belongs in a private collection, not in the market. I'm sorry."

Balthier threw up his hands in frustration and snatched the bejeweled crown back from the merchant's hands. The sky pirate returned the piece to a non-descript wooden box and tucked it under his arm, and he began walking to the exit of the Muthru Bazaar. The sound of haggling filled his ears, and the smell of spices and other exotic goods wafted through the air.

He had spent his entire day wandering the marketplace hoping to find a buyer for his fantastic piece of loot, but he had had rotten luck thus far. Probably against his better judgment, he allowed Vaan to take the Strahl back to the sandsea to continue assisting Dalmasca's efforts with the Baknamy attack. Of course, Balthier made sure that Fran went along too.

The sky pirate saw no reason to fly back to look at corpses and fires another day, and he wanted to liberate himself of the ancient treasure in hopes of earning a hefty sum of gil. The Strahl needed some new parts, and he'd had his eye on some new leather upholstery to refit the seats in the cockpit. He also had some desire to get new furnishings for his own cabin, perhaps something befitting royalty. Perhaps it would entice her Majesty to join him for a long distance flight sometime in the future.

But alas, he was not finding a buyer in Rabanastre on this day. It was extraordinarily hot, even by Dalmascan standards, and he took as many shortcuts through darker, cooler back alleys as he could to avoid the blistering heat of the sun. He finally made his way to the Sandsea tavern and was grateful to be inside.

He ordered ale at the bar, and he took a seat in view of the entire tavern. Perhaps an easy mark would show himself, and the sky pirate could at least add some bit of gil to his own purse that day. Without Fran to prevent him from engaging in petty theft, he felt like a teenager again. He hoped that his filching fingers would not betray him after so many years of more elaborate theft. He liked testing himself in this manner, although he supposed it would not please his lady love if she knew he was thinking of pickpocketing her citizens.

He sipped his brew and enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere of the tavern, knowing that Ashe was probably in her council meeting right then. He tried to imagine the topic of conversation, if they ever got around to it.

Ashe had told him that so much of what they said followed a standard procedure, some rules of order that made him laugh hysterically. The Queen's feelings had been hurt by his reaction. He imagined a group of grumpy old men sitting around a table with Ashe as their guiding light, the men fumbling over themselves with formalities.

_I now relinquish the floor to the honorable representative of Nalbina,_ Balthier thought mockingly.

_Thank you for your kind relinquishing, oh most holiest representative of Balfonheim_.

_You're too kind, you ass kissing son of a Cactoid_. He chuckled to himself, knowing he could never take something like that seriously.

He took another sip of his drink and drummed his fingers on the wooden box absentmindedly. He tried to overhear other conversations in the tavern, and he was not at all surprised that the present topic of conversation was the attack in the Jagd Yensa.

Some burly man and a scrawnier companion were debating the merits of the Baknamy and Urutan. "Can't trust the lot of them, those slimy midgets. They pop out when you least expect," the larger man muttered, guzzling some dark beer.

His friend shook his head. "Well it's not like those sand bandits were worth much. Good riddance to the lot I say."

Balthier shook his head at the conversation. Blind hatred was so rampant in Ivalice. He himself was fond of neither race after facing them in so many scattered skirmishes, but to wish death upon a whole people? It disgusted him, and he wondered if the men would be so flippant if their race was nearly exterminated.

He wanted to escape the stupid ramblings of these drunken fools, but he had several hours before he was to visit the palace again. That night Basch could finally take his own name back, and it tickled the sky pirate to think of how uncomfortable the older man would be throughout the pompous ceremony. He wouldn't miss it for the world.

He finished his drink and let the insipid conversation flow past him as he pondered his plans for the days to come. Since he was unsuccessful in Rabanastre, he needed to shop the crown around so he could get it off his hands. What good was a crown when there was gil to be had from its sale? He considered the merchants in Archades, knowing since he was a very young man that they could be swindled easily enough if you made up some cock and bull story about the origins of your loot.

Balthier sat back in his chair and began to think of ways to get the merchants' attention. He'd probably pay off a streetear to start mumbling about some fine treasure, and hopefully it would trickle its way into the marketplace. Of course, that bastard Jules would receive no cut from this, he thought angrily.

As soon as Ashe would let him take the Strahl and be gone, he would head for the imperial capital. He hated to leave her, but she knew him well enough to understand that treasure acquisition was about earning profit, much as she was irritated by it. He would make plans to return to Rabanastre as soon as he settled his accounts.

Having heard more than enough about how the Baknamy and Nabudis ought to be bombed into submission by Her Majesty's finest, he picked up the box and returned to the desert heat. Why couldn't he have fallen for some monarch in a more reasonable climate? He smiled to himself and went to try his luck in the East End of the city as he waited for the celebration at the palace.

* * *

"For your perpetual allegiance to Dalmasca and your support of everlasting peace, I dub thee Basch fon Ronsenburg Defender of Ivalice. May you continue as a shining example of bravery and strength from this day forth," Ashe announced, placing a medal around the knight's neck.

He bowed humbly before her, and the dining room erupted with applause. For his part, Balthier managed to whistle louder than the rest of the room, and Basch's cheeks turned a scarlet color in embarrassment. The polite clapping of the diplomats of Ivalice was drowned out by the whistling pirate and the hoots and hollers of Vaan and Penelo. Basch turned to face the room and nodded in gratitude.

The knight took a seat at the Queen's side, and a lavish meal was served. After the long afternoon spent discussing the events in the sandsea, Ashe was overjoyed to spend her evening with her friends. Yet the council was never too far away, as all the representatives had been invited to dine in Basch's honor as well. She figured that avoiding the hot topic in favor of discussing Basch or even the Nabradia situation would be nigh impossible.

The council had been appalled by the events in the Jagd Yensa, and several called for some measure of retaliation against the Baknamy. Ashe and representatives from the Garif and the Viera argued against an attack, believing that such violence would only breed more violence. Talks would continue the following day about possible negotiations with the inhabitants of the Deadlands, but the Queen imagined it would be a futile struggle.

Though she longed to be the representative for Dalmasca, the first day of the council was only for ceremony and from then on, her country would be represented by someone else. Somewhere deep down, Ashe wished that she could be the one to fight for Dalmasca on the world stage, but she knew that she was needed to lead her own people as their Queen. Of course, it wouldn't stop her from making subtle suggestions to her representative.

The meal continued without incident, the diplomats relaxing in the less formal dining atmosphere. She kept overhearing Balthier and Fran talking about that blasted crown, and apparently the sky pirate was trying to convince her that they should head to Archades to sell it. Fran proceeded to ignore him, and it made Ashe smile. While the pirate's mind was on his next pouch of gil, the Viera had pledged her assistance to Dalmasca for as long as it was needed, offering the Strahl's participation. Ashe wondered if her partner was yet aware of her generosity.

She soon found out that he was, as she heard a noisy moan from across the table. The Queen heard Penelo giggle as Balthier held his head in his hands dramatically. Though outwardly he was protesting, some part of Ashe hoped that he wasn't too put out to spend the next few days in Rabanastre. She knew that she would very much enjoy the pleasure of his company.

Ashe saw Tylo giving her a strange glance as she was caught staring at the sky pirate and his partner for a bit too long. She shook her head and smiled, trying to meet the eyes of everyone else at the table. Her eyes fell upon Lord Erran, who sat quietly listening to the old Archadian ambassador ramble on about some topic of conversation. While the man appeared to be actively listening, Ashe could tell that his mind was far away. She knew he had not been away from Mount Bur-Omisace in nearly two years, and she knew he was probably quite homesick.

She decided to break the ice a little and cheer the man's spirits. "Lord Erran," she called out, raising her drink. "Do you not like the taste of Dalmascan wine?"

He was startled out of his glum expression and looked to her then. He raised his own glass to her. "My lady, if only the wine were as sweet as yourself." Ashe laughed at the compliment; although she could almost see Balthier's eyes roll back in his head at the remark.

The Archadian ambassador looked from Erran to Ashe and lifted his goblet. "To Lord Erran and the Lady Ashe…the young architects of Ivalice's future." Several other diplomats around the table saluted, and Ashe took a sip in acknowledgement.

The representative from Balfonheim, a jolly and considerably wealthy merchant, strove for the Queen's attention. "Your Highness, it is a pleasure to join you at table this evening. May we consider that future before us now?"

Ashe was initially confused by the man's implication, but she looked aside to see the wheels turning in Tylo's head. The Queen immediately understood what was going on, although she knew that she was figuring it out before some of the others. Lord Erran slunk down in his chair and attempted to avoid the glances of the other diplomats.

But the Archadian would not be silenced. "Perhaps these architects could build that future together?" Ashe reached for her glass and began drinking the wine anxiously. She could see Balthier's eyes sparkle in amusement at her discomfort; although none of her other companions were following the conversation and its undercurrents. But the older woman who represented Nalbina laid it all out for everyone.

"You men with your hinting. Why don't you just ask Her Majesty if she intends to take a husband?" With that comment, Vaan spit out the wine he had been drinking in surprise, and Penelo gasped. Ashe thought that Erran would be on the floor soon enough if he could sink any lower in his seat, a flushed appearance marking his face.

The Queen was about to respond with a firm denial, but that darned old Tylo always had to find some diplomatic way of dealing with things. He looked to her sharply, and she kept her mouth shut. The old man was no fool, and though he never remarked on it, she knew her liaisons with the sky pirate were not unknown to him.

"Her Majesty obviously has a lot on her plate at present, especially with this emerging situation so close to her borders in the Jagd Yensa. But she will happily consider a proper suitor when the time is right," the minister replied, daring Ashe to disagree with him.

She was so young, and the thought of remarrying made her stomach drop. She would not be reduced to some matron with a legion of children, serving only as a bearer of babes. If she was to become a mother, it would be on her own terms. She was the Queen, and by the Gods, she was going to be the one to rule, husband or no.

"Yes, Tylo, thank you," she responded. The conversation shifted away from the thought of a match between Ashe and Erran, and she was grateful for it. Though he was probably an excellent choice, it would be unnerving to marry her late husband's cousin. By the mortified look on Lord Erran's face, she imagined that he didn't feel that differently about the prospect.

The plates were cleared, and everyone rose from the table. Ashe called for another rousing tribute to Basch, who seemed ecstatic that most of the attention that evening had not fallen upon him. The diplomats and her friends departed. She caught Balthier's eye briefly, and he gave a curt nod. He would be visiting later that evening, and it made her heartbeat quicken at the thought.

Eventually only Erran remained as the servants began to clean the room. He approached her and walked by her side as she exited the dining room. "It would seem that my appearance has caused a stir here, my lady."

Ashe smiled at him and patted his arm. "I had a feeling they were going to start pressuring me sooner or later. No matter what I do, there will always be the old guard wanting the Queen to settle down and raise an army of children."

"They are rude to you. My cousin has only been gone a few years, and they would see you wedded to me after two days," he muttered sadly. They walked in silence a few moments, sharing the loss of Rasler and the insensitive regard for his memory.

He escorted her to her chamber, and she opened the door. "Your Majesty?" he called, and she turned back to look at him. "I had a feeling this would happen if I came to Rabanastre. Rosa's always said that the moment I announced my survival, everyone would see me as a suitor, and not as a representative for the Kiltias."

Ashe was curious. "Rosa? Who is Rosa?"

She saw Erran blush and look down at his feet. It appeared that Ashe was not the only one with a lover few knew about. "She is…she is someone I met while living amongst the refugees. Common blood. Why, my family would raise such a stink if they were alive today. But she is the greatest thing to ever happen to me, Ashelia."

The Queen nodded sympathetically and grasped his hand. "I understand how you feel, Erran. More than you know." He nodded and took his leave of her. No wonder he had been so forlorn at dinner, Ashe thought. He was not only missing Mount Bur-Omisace, but the beloved woman he left behind there to attend this conference. She prayed that the meetings would go fast, and he could return to the east. But if not, maybe she could arrange for Rosa to come to Rabanastre?

She smiled at the thought of her old acquaintance in love, the boy who played with frogs and ran around the Verdpale with Rasler. It warmed her heart despite all the horrors of the world around her. She entered her room and closed the door behind her. As she let her maid undress her, she wondered how that scoundrel of a pirate would sneak about her palace that night.


	4. A fresh new breeze

His pockets nearly full to bursting with gil and every available satchel full as well, a very satisfied sky pirate strolled the streets of the Dalmascan capital. A chance encounter with the ambassador from Balfonheim the night before at Basch's ceremony had netted him a buyer for Raithwall's crown.

The man had overheard him and Fran arguing about selling the loot at the dinner table, and he had been kind enough to refer him to a friend in the East End. The ambassador's acquaintance was a collector of ancient relics and had paid handsomely for the crown. Balthier was overjoyed to be rid of the thing since he was beginning to get the suspicion that it had brought him nothing but trouble.

The massacres in the sandsea, having to lay about in the Rabanastran heat while Vaan played hero in the Strahl, not to mention the whisperings about what Lord Erran's arrival could mean for the future of the Dalmascan monarchy. Balthier wasn't the type to be jealous, and the Nabradian man had been nothing but a decent fellow thus far. But if there was anything the sky pirate knew, it was that Erran and Ashe were merely figureheads, and that dreaded council could probably force them together for some show of solidarity.

Ashe had said very little about it the night before, assuring him that she would decide who she would marry if she chose to marry again at all. But some part of the sky pirate wondered if it would ease the tension somewhat if Ashe was to publicly announce their relationship? Although Balthier would never tire of sneaking about and the excitement it brought, he figured that it was not much of a secret any longer.

Balthier himself had no idea how to broach the topic with the Queen. He was the Hero of the Bahamut and the Hero of Rabanastre, so he wasn't exactly a persona non grata in her country. But the conservative council of old men she had managed to gather around her at court would probably not be so easily swayed. He shook his head, knowing there was no easy solution to their situation.

He was en route to the aerodrome in hopes of getting to see his own airship for once. Vaan had been rather diligent, flying the Strahl back and forth from the sandsea to assist with Dalmascan efforts. He needed to deposit his spoils in his safe on board, and he didn't relish the idea of dallying in the streets with his pockets full of gil.

He continued his trek to the western edge of the city, watching the citizens of Rabanastre going about their business. He remembered an unhappy people crowding these streets a year before, and it was wonderful to see what changes freedom could bring about. Their enthusiasm and lust for life was infectious, and he felt a slight spring in his step as he wandered on his way to the aerodrome.

Balthier reached the western gate and queued up to wait for it to be opened. He watched a small group of children playing at pirates while he stood, shaking his head at the battle cries of the young rascals with their wooden swords. They definitely needed some practice, and of course, a bit more class and elegance. The gate finally opened, a gust of warm desert air whooshing in from the Westersand.

He followed the crowd through the gate, but as he went on his way to the aerodrome, he felt something brush against him. It wasn't a pickpocket. In fact, no one else was within several paces. It was as if some invisible force was pushing past him. Suddenly some…thing collided with him, knocking him to the ground.

The people around him turned to look at him in surprise, but Balthier could not see who had crashed into him. He probably looked like a lunatic, randomly falling down in the street. The sky pirate stood up and brushed himself off, scanning the crowd to see if someone was tearing off in the opposite direction. He only saw the city gate closing behind him. Strange breeze coming off the Westersand, he mused, just knocking one grown man down.

Balthier decided to just ignore the strange event, thanking the gods that his new supply of gil still remained on his person. He was happy to see his beloved airship in the hangar, and he raced through the terminal to gloat to Fran about his triumph in the marketplace.

* * *

Ashe stared at her reflection in the mirror, and she wondered how many other young women her age looked this exhausted. Her maid dutifully unlaced the back of her dress while the Queen frowned at her image.

"Is something wrong, my lady? You seem troubled," Laina asked as her deft fingers pulled the strings apart, letting Ashe breathe easier.

The Queen shook her head and let Laina continue her work. The ships dispatched to Nabudis had returned just hours earlier with very little of note to report. The Deadlands were not easy to navigate since the Mist had settled so heavily over the entire area. It was difficult for them to see if there was any activity without landing and scouting around on foot, but Ashe did not want to resort to that just yet. She did not need to endanger any other lives.

The council was pushing for war, but how could they fight an enemy like the Baknamy? And what right did they have to fight them? The Urutan would deal with their own affairs and take revenge as was their own custom. Launching attacks against the Baknamy now would only cause more trouble. She had only been able to sit in on meetings now that the Dalmascan representative spoke for her country. It had taken all of the willpower she had to hold back her tongue. For a council of peace, they were acting a bit too belligerent for her taste.

The Dalmascan representative had passed around the bird image, and no one had any knowledge of its origins or what it could represent. Ashe noticed that Lord Erran had visibly blanched at the horrific picture of the bird, but when she questioned him, all he had said was that the thought of it painted in blood had shaken him. But she knew that he was not being entirely truthful with her. She had not had a chance to question him in private, and she knew she would have to find an excuse to do so tomorrow.

Ashe was already missing Basch's input since he had departed earlier that day to return to Lord Larsa in Archades. The knight would be coordinating efforts in case of a Baknamy escalation since the Deadlands were officially part of Archadian territory. She did not envy the potential military preparations he would be considering.

The laces were finally undone, and her heavy gown fell away. She changed into a light nightgown as Laina took the garment into her dressing room to put away. As beautiful as she felt in these elaborate gowns during the day, the simplicity of her nighttime attire made her feel more like herself. She did not have to be the Queen at night; she could simply be Ashe. And the sound of footsteps on her balcony signaled to her that it was just the right time to be Ashe.

A light tapping on the glass door signaled Balthier's arrival. The balcony entrance was a new one for him. She drew back the curtains to see the sky pirate standing out in the moonlight, his usual cocky grin plastered to his face. Ashe opened the door part of the way.

"Did you climb all the way up here, Balthier?" she asked, denying him entrance. His face was sweaty and red, and all he could do was nod. She opened the door the rest of the way, and he sauntered in. He wandered over to her table and collapsed in a cozy chair.

He struggled to catch his breath and leaned back in the chair. "So much for creativity. I can't say I will be trying that again. It doesn't look so difficult from the ground." Ashe laughed at Balthier's strange entrance and let the door stay open, a gentle breeze from the Giza Plains drifting in from the south. The rains would be coming soon, she mused.

Laina wandered back from the dressing room and bowed her head. "Is there anything else you require, my lady?"

"I'm afraid our card game will have to be postponed, Laina. Please offer my apologies to the other ladies," Ashe responded, giving the young woman a knowing look.

Laina grinned at the sight of the exhausted sky pirate and nodded. "As you wish. I'm sure I would have lost this month's wages to Yelenie again. Good night, my lady. Oh…and good night, Balthier."

He gave Laina a little wave as she exited the room. "I don't see why you need to postpone, Ashe. I would love to play against you and your ladies. I'd be the luckiest man in Ivalice."

"I do not wish to torture them so. Enduring your charms for the entire night is not one of their duties." The Queen pulled a deck of cards and some game chips out of a drawer and dropped them onto the table. "But I was set on playing tonight, and since you seem to be in no condition to do much else…"

He scowled at her and snatched the cards from the center of the table and began shuffling them. She grinned and took a seat across from him and began dividing the chips evenly between the two of them. "Shall we play for gil? I hear you are a wealthier man now that Raithwall's crown has found a buyer."

Finally satisfied with the shuffling, he began dealing a hand to each of them. "You hear correctly. But I do not believe I should rob Dalmasca blind tonight. You, madam, are an atrocious card player."

She smiled in amusement and began arranging her cards to her satisfaction. "You think so, pirate? We'll see if your little balcony adventure has robbed you of both your breath and your luck this evening."

He chuckled at her challenge and scrutinized his own cards. They relaxed into a calm mood, each winning a few hands with no clear advantage emerging. Her earlier distress over the Baknamy dissipated as she let him tease her. The breeze floating into the room shifted slightly, and the faint scent of something burning drifted into the bedchamber as well.

"Someone experimenting in your kitchens?" the sky pirate inquired as he threw down some chips to raise the imaginary bet.

Ashe wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Not at this hour. Whatever it is, the firefighting guild will have their hands full." She looked again at the cards in her hand and pondered folding or calling Balthier's bet. He was watching her with a challenging gaze, and it was starting to unsettle her. He was probably cheating in some way.

She decided to fight back. "Call," she muttered and tossed a handful of chips to the middle of the table. The Queen took another chip from her pile and pressed it against her lips, letting her teeth nibble at the end. She pretended it was an unconscious act and snuck peeks at him to gauge his reaction.

His eyes were focused on the small chip as she drew it back and forth across her lips. She had him. She watched him lean forward, putting his elbows on the table. He was clearly struggling to concentrate as she teased him. He cleared his throat and picked up another card from the deck. After spending a moment more analyzing his hand, he tossed a few more chips onto the pile. "Raise another five. And stop doing that."

She smiled. "Stop doing what?" He rolled his eyes at her and scratched his chin nervously. She could see his expression change to something different, and it excited her. Her tongue darted out to lick the edge of the chip as she selected another card from the deck, not taking her eyes away from his.

He sighed at her playful behavior. "You know what you're doing, you vixen. Are we playing cards or what?"

She tossed the chip back into her pile. "You're bluffing," she accused with a chastising look. Ashe picked up a few more chips to call his raise. "You always scratch your chin when you're bluffing."

The sky pirate laughed at her claim. "I do no such thing," he replied, throwing down his cards. He had a pair of knaves.

Ashe stifled a laugh as he sat there proudly, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. She slowly placed the cards on the table, fanning them out. "Three of a kind. I win." He groaned at her victory and leaned back in the chair. She eagerly grabbed the pile of chips to add to her own. "One more hand?"

He gathered the cards and began shuffling them again. "Only if you keep your chips to yourself." He dealt another hand, and this time Ashe had terrible cards. She did her best to behave, but he decided to play dirty as well. While she pondered raising the bet, he removed his vest and tossed it on the floor.

When she watched him do so, he gave her an innocent look. "Is something wrong? You didn't climb up a balcony. I could do with one less layer, thank you." She returned her eyes to her cards, but the images and numbers began to blur as she saw him unbuttoning his shirt from the corners of her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, suddenly feeling very hot as she could see the skin of his chest now peeking out. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, his forearms resting casually on the table. She hurriedly added some chips to the pile to continue this farce of a card game.

He said nothing and pretended to be very interested in whatever cards were now held in his hand. She figured that he was trying to distract her from whatever cheating he was currently engaging in, and she knew she had to catch him in the act.

Ashe leaned forward, slapping her cards down on the table. She gave him a dirty look. "You're cheating."

He sat back in his seat and held his cards against his chest. "That is a very loaded accusation, Your Highness. I swear on my integrity as a pirate that I am not cheating."

She stood up and marched over to his side of the table, and he clutched the cards against himself tighter at her approach. "Let me see your cards," she demanded, trying to snatch them away.

Balthier backed the chair up, and it scraped loudly against the floor. He rose and stepped away from her. "Now _you're_ cheating."

She stepped closer and looked up into his face. "Show me your cards, Balthier."

His eyes darkened with desire, and he held his cards up in the air far over her head and just out of her reach. His lips curled up into a smirk, waiting for her to make the next move.

She stared at him, her breathing heavy as he looked down at her. But as she reached up to try and yank his cards away, he wrapped his other arm around her middle, pulling her roughly against him.

Ashe felt the breath go out of her with his sudden movement. Keeping his arm up in the air just out of her reach, he backed them up until they bumped into the table forcefully. Several chips jolted off of the table and clattered onto the floor. He captured her lips then, his body pressing her between himself and the table.

She responded eagerly, but she tried to sneak her fingers up his arm to grasp at his cards. He still managed to hold them out of her reach, and she whimpered in frustration. She decided to weaken his resolve, and she hopped onto the table, scattering more chips and cards onto the floor of her bedchamber. Ashe hiked her nightgown up to her knees and pulled his hand away from her waist to place it on her exposed leg.

The feeling of his hand on her bare skin was like fire, his fingers inching ever upward. She could finally tell his arm was about to fall, but she wanted to be absolutely sure. Her fingers found his belt, and she began unbuckling it. His hand crept further up her thigh as she unloosened the belt, and finally the other hand dropped down, the cards slapped down beside her other leg.

She broke away from him briefly and looked aside. His eyes were devious as she returned her gaze to his face. "You _were_ cheating," she announced, lifting the cards and waving them in his face. He simply smiled and yanked the cards away from her, throwing them aside. He shoved her nightgown up near her hips, and she returned her attention to his belt and trousers.

There was an insistent knock at the door. "It's probably Laina," she whispered as his fingers tickled her inner thigh, drawing a gasp from her with the contact.

"Don't answer it," he replied, his fingers brushing against the soft silk of her undergarments. His words were as tempting as the feeling of his hand against her skin, but she had to answer the door. She shook her head and dropped her hands away from his trousers, pushing him away from her gently.

Ashe hopped down from the table and set her nightgown back as best she could and marched to the door in disappointment, grabbing a robe off of her bed as she hurried. There was another hard knock at the door. "Yes, I'm coming," she called, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt. She shoved her arms into the sleeves of the robe.

Another knock and she reached for the doorknob, pulling it open angrily. "Laina, just what do you think you're…"

The Queen heard a sharp intake of breath from Balthier behind her, and she met not the cheerful face of her maid, but the grief stricken look of Tylo Echarna and a few of her other ministers. She quickly pulled the robe closed, holding it together as she felt unbelievably embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable state. If they had knocked only minutes later, who knows what shame she would feel?

Ashe finally found words. "Tylo? What is going on at this hour?" she inquired, her hands shaking. She could hear the sky pirate picking up gaming chips off of the floor behind her, and she hoped that no one would notice how his shirt was undone.

Tylo's eyes burned with fury, but she could not tell if it was for her actions or for what he was about to share with her. "Apologies for our late arrival, your Majesty, but have you looked out your window?"

"I beg your pardon?" she inquired. She stood aside and allowed the men to enter the room. Tylo's eyes scanned the room as if looking for some sign of treachery on the sky pirate's part. Quick movement behind her signaled that Balthier was walking over to look out at the balcony.

"My gods…" she heard from him, astonishment crossing his face. Ashe turned away from her ministers and hurried over to the balcony. He allowed her to walk past him out the open doors and outside into the night. She felt her stomach drop at the sight.

Far to the south, a harsh orange flame was visible and a plume of dark smoke rose to mingle with the sky. She could hear shuffling footsteps behind her, and Tylo was at her side. "The nomad village, Majesty." At night time, the villagers would have had no warning, no time to escape from an attack.

Ashe held back tears of anger, and she had to take charge. She turned to one minister. "Dispatch troops immediately. Any Baknamy still on the scene…show no mercy." The man hurried off at her command. She looked to another of the men. "And send the firefighting guilds south, as many as you can muster at this hour. I want the fires out."

The man scurried off, and Ashe turned back to look at the distant flames. It was still the dry season in Giza. There were only women and children in the nomad village at this time of year. Her hands balled into fists, and she rushed back into the bedchamber. She opened her dressing room and began to look for some clothing to travel in. Grabbing items and dressing quickly, she went back into the bedchamber to find a sword when Tylo stopped her.

"My lady? What are you doing?" he asked, standing in front of her to prevent her leaving. She found a sword beneath her bed and began to strap it to her back.

"The Giza nomads are citizens of Dalmasca. I must see what I can do to help," she argued. The Queen sat on her bed and started to buckle some armor onto her legs. Balthier was dressing himself in a hurry as well to join her.

The old man stood beside her and shook his head. "It is too dangerous, your Majesty. It is not your place to go, and there is really nothing you can do right now."

She ceased buckling the armor and scowled at him. "I will not be sequestered away when my people are suffering."

Tylo sighed, and Ashe knew what was coming. "Highness, your place is in Rabanastre. We need to convene the war council since Giza lies within our jurisdiction."

Balthier walked up with his arms crossed. "You cannot wage a conventional war against an enemy like this…"

The old man's eyes widened at his interruption, and Ashe wished that Balthier hadn't said anything. Tylo was looking for any excuse at this point. "Your input was not sought in these matters, pirate!"

"Minister Echarna!" Ashe scolded, rising from the bed to stand in between the two men. They stared at each other angrily for a few moments, and the Queen did not know what to do. Balthier was absolutely right, but he was not on her council.

The sky pirate backed down and turned to her, daring to put his hands on her shoulders in front of her ministers. "It's alright. I'll go rouse Fran, and we'll head south. See what we can do in your place." He gave her shoulders a squeeze and departed, this time choosing to exit through the door.

The remaining ministers looked amongst each other uncomfortably as the Queen began taking her armor back off. Tylo looked about ready to burst, but Ashe held her hand up to prevent him from spouting off at her. "I will meet you all in the council room shortly," she announced.

The men nodded in acknowledgment and left the room, Tylo shaking his head at his young monarch as he departed. Ashe knew that marriage would be ratcheted up to the top of the Dalmascan priority list as soon as this was all over.

She called for Laina and dressed in a simple gown to head for the war council. Before she left, she took a final look out past her balcony. The flames seemed to be climbing ever higher into the sky, the harsh smoke drifting all the way to her palace. She prayed that the women and children of Giza were alive, but she had a feeling that the devastation in the sandsea was merely a dress rehearsal for what was now happening.


	5. The bells may toll for some

A/N: This chapter is long overdue. Many apologies!

* * *

The Strahl set down in a dry riverbed, and Balthier dreaded having to exit his ship to see the devastation. Beside him, Fran had been silent since he had woken her. It had only taken them minutes to fly south from Rabanastre, and his mind was racing. They powered down their airship and looked to each other for a moment.

Fran nodded, and they stood up, gathering their weapons from the seats behind them. The sky pirate gripped his gun tightly as they moved to the exit hatch. The door opened, and the stench of burned flesh entered his nostrils. He felt like he would retch, but he had to see if there was anyone left to save. The village lay directly ahead, and the plains were empty at this late hour, all of the animals seemingly scared off by the invading Baknamy.

There was no sign of the small attackers as they approached the burning nomad camp. Some of the fires were already being put out by the firefighting guilds of Rabanastre, and Balthier could see several soldiers wandering the edges of the village looking for Baknamy. A soldier halted them at the entrance. "Her Majesty's forces are dealing with this situation," the young man said, fear visible in his eyes.

Fran stepped forward to address him. "We come at her Majesty's request. We want to help." The soldier waved them ahead, and they witnessed firsthand how horrific the attack had been. Every dwelling in the village was alight, and the soldiers were already draping cloth sheets over bodies. Balthier noticed that many of the bodies were small. Children, he thought in disgust.

"Undefended," Fran said quietly as they walked together, their weapons at the ready, "the men of the village are still gone."

Balthier kicked a shiny bauble with the tip of his shoe. "All they had were sunstones. They threw sunstones at them," he muttered angrily. How could anyone attack these harmless people? These women and children? They reached the southern end of the village and turned to look back at the destruction.

He walked over to the cockatrice pen and leaned heavily on the small fence. Fran slung her bow onto her back and stood in front of him. "Fire fighting or patrolling?" she inquired sadly, not bothering to offer rescuing survivors as an option.

The sky pirate shrugged his shoulders. There was a sudden movement behind them, and he whirled around, aiming his gun at a large overturned feeding trough. Fran readied an arrow and stepped into the pen. She took her foot and kicked the trough over, but it was not the enemy. A small girl was lying on the ground, curled up in a ball and shaking violently.

Fran knelt down and looked up to Balthier in concern. He set his gun down and raced over, kneeling beside his partner. He gently turned the girl over, sitting down on the ground to pull her into his arms. "It's alright, sweetheart. You're safe now," he told her. Fran removed a potion from her pouch and uncorked it. She held it to the girl's mouth and gently poured it past her lips.

The girl's face was streaked with tears and soot, but Balthier recognized her. It was Terra, the little girl who looked after the cockatrices so diligently. She appeared to be uninjured thankfully, but it broke his heart to see the poor girl's eyes. They were misted over, and she was staring at nothing, unable to speak. He held her against him and removed his handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the girl's face.

"I will let the others know we have found her," the Viera said and left them. The potion seemed to be having some effect on her, and her trembling eased slightly while he held her. Balthier wondered if it would have been better for her to have died than to have to live with the knowledge of what happened to her village.

"Terra, my name is Balthier. I know you might not want to, but can you tell me what happened?" he asked softly, cleaning some dirt from her forehead.

Tears filled her eyes, and she lifted a hand to wipe at her nose. She continued to shake, but she appeared to have acknowledged his question. "They were no bigger than me, and they had masks on." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He embraced her back, not knowing any other way to comfort her.

She was gradually able to relax a bit and open up more. "One of the cockatrices, Sammo…he got loose. And Elder Brunoa always says we can't go out to look at night, but it was so dark, and I didn't want Sammo to get lost. So I went out to find him, but when I came back, they were here, and I hid here in the pen…"

Fran returned with a Dalmascan healer. Balthier set Terra down, and the healer hurried over to examine her. He stood up to join his partner. "The first of the men are starting to arrive," Fran explained, sorrow clouding her features. The sky pirate shook his head. The men of Giza were almost always away from home, and there was no way they could have gotten there in time to save their families.

"Balthier?" Terra called as they started to walk away. He turned back and knelt down at her side, brushing a stray bit of hair away from her face as the healer continued to look at her. Her eyes were confused as she looked at him. "One of them was big though. He didn't have a mask on."

* * *

It was late morning when her royal entourage reached the remains of the nomad village. Ashe had not yet slept, having spent the night angrily arguing with her council and several diplomats from elsewhere in Ivalice. She had no choice but to declare war, and already there were airships preparing to load fire bombs to strike the ruins of Nabudis. Ashe figured that it was all they could do at this point. She had not wanted official war, but after the attack in Giza, there was no other option available.

Her council had urged her against it, but she demanded to be taken to the plains to speak to the survivors and offer them whatever measure of comfort she could. They were her people, and she would not hide in her palace. She rode south by chocobo, flanked by several ministers and Lord Erran, who had asked to come along to see what destruction was wrought by the Baknamy.

They approached the village entrance, and she dismounted. There was no sign that there had ever been people living there, so horrific was the gutting the fires had caused. She held back the urge to cover her nose and mouth at the smell, and her eyes scanned the long line of covered bodies. Tylo approached her then. She turned to him. "How many are dead?"

The old man fidgeted. "Well, we won't have an exact number until all of the men return…" he offered, and she knew he was lying. They already knew the death count.

"How many!?" she demanded loudly, and several patrolling soldiers looked over at her sadly. Erran walked on ahead to kneel beside some of the bodies. He let his fingers grasp the edge of one of the clean white sheets that stood out against the dry and scarred earth. The young man shook his head and met her eyes in concern.

"Over a hundred, your Highness," Tylo replied quietly. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Over a hundred defenseless women and children, over a hundred white sheets scattered about the village. She glanced around and saw several men from the village hovering over the sheets. Their faces were full of grief, and she felt tears sting her eyes at their loss.

One of the soldiers approached and bowed before her. "Majesty, there's something you need to see." She nodded and followed him to the western side of the village where there had been fewer inhabitants. The ground was scorched blacker here than anywhere else, but she didn't understand why. The soldier looked to her. "It's easier if you look from higher ground, my lady."

Ashe allowed the soldier to help her up onto a small rocky wall, and she looked down and gasped. "Lord Erran? Will you come look at this?" she called. He ran over and clambered up onto the wall to stand beside her. They looked together at the same bird image that had been painted in blood on the drilling towers in the sandsea.

The image had been scorched into the soil, the bird's wings outstretched and talons extended. The Queen looked away to see Erran's fingers stroking his temples, fury radiating from his features. "This is impossible," he muttered, his body quaking in anger.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "What? What is it? You recognize this bird, don't you?" she asked. He nodded, but his eyes would not stray from the horrific sight on the ground below them.

He struggled to speak. "The Talon Order…it is…it _was_ our insignia…"

The Queen was confused, and Erran said nothing else. Why hadn't he said anything when the image had been presented to the council the day before? And what was the Talon Order? There were footsteps on the ground below, and she heard a familiar voice call up to her. "Ashe, you have to come here."

She looked down to see Balthier looking up at them, a subdued look on his face. He held out his hand to her, and he helped her hop back down onto the ground. The sky pirate started to lead her to the triage area that had been set up, but she turned back to look at Erran. He had sat down on the rocky ledge, and he continued to stare at the image on the ground. The look on his face seemed to be utter heartbreak.

Balthier stopped them before they reached one of the tents that had been set up for survivors. "This girl…she says that there was a Hume with the Baknamy last night."

She looked at the sky pirate in surprise. "A Hume? Are you sure? Maybe she's still in shock." He shook his head and guided her to the tent, holding the flap up to let her inside.

Ashe saw a small cot in the middle of the room with a little girl lying on it. A man knelt beside her, probably her father, and he looked like he would never be able to leave her side again. The Queen was happy that at least one family could try to move on and heal, but so many others were not as fortunate.

Ashe gave the father a sympathetic look, and she knelt down on the other side of the cot. Balthier stood at the foot of the bed and nodded to the girl, telling her it was alright to talk to her. She gave the little girl's hand a squeeze, and two very sad eyes met hers. It took every bit of courage Ashe had not to break down at the sight. "Hello, I'm Ashe. What's your name?" she asked softly.

The girl seemed to recognize her. "I'm Terra. I remember you…you visited our village before."

She gave her a smile. "That's right. I want you to know how proud of you I am, Terra."

Terra looked confused. "Proud of me? Why?" Sunlight trickled in as Lord Erran entered the tent, and he stood beside Balthier.

"You're helping us a lot with what you've seen," she began, speaking slowly to try and ease into the questions she had for her. "You can help us catch the people who hurt your village. Now, you told my friend Balthier that you saw a bigger man with the bad people. Is that right?"

Terra sniffed a bit and nodded her head. Her father looked at her sadly and stroked her hair. "Yes. He didn't wear a mask like the little people. He was the same size as Papa, like Humes you know?"

Ashe looked away to Balthier and Erran. The sky pirate frowned while Erran appeared to be furious. He was still shaking in anger like he had been on the ledge. She turned back to Terra. "Can you tell me anything about him?"

The girl thought hard, and Ashe did not wish to question her for too long. She needed to heal, and she would not force the girl to relive the horrific experience any longer than she had to. "He was yelling at the little people," Terra began, "And he was yelling at Elder Brunoa too…"

Lord Erran spoke then, his questions coming rapidly. "Did he say anything about the Talon Order? What did he look like? What was he saying?" Terra turned to look at him in surprise, her lips trembling at the tone of his voice.

The father scowled at Erran, and Ashe stood up to stop the Nabradian. "Lord Erran," she warned him, stepping closer to the foot of the bed.

But Erran was enraged, not with Terra, but Ashe could see that the little girl couldn't know that. He gripped the sides of the cot, and even Balthier stepped away from him in shock. "Did he say why he came to Giza?"

Terra's eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sorry!"

"What did he look like, Terra?" Erran shouted at her, and the father stood up furiously.

"Your Majesty, I must insist…" the father growled, and Ashe grabbed Erran's wrist as hard as she could.

"Erran, stop," she ordered, seeing his eyes burning with anger she had never seen from him before. Ashe began to tug the man away from Terra's cot, and she looked to the sky pirate. "Balthier, will you...?" she asked softly, and he nodded firmly. She saw him move to comfort the little girl as she pulled Erran out of the tent.

She released his arm and stared at him. His hands were balled into fists, and he looked like he was about to strike something. "Why are you interrogating that little girl? What is wrong with you?" she cried. He seemed dazed to be back out in the heat, and he could not respond to her.

Ashe grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Look at me! Erran, look at me!" His eyes seemed to focus a little more, and he searched her face. She glared at him angrily. "You are a son of Nabradia. Act like one!"

He finally seemed to come back to himself, the gentle man she remembered returning. "Ashelia, I'm sorry…"

"You should be!" she countered forcefully, "That little girl has just lost everyone she knows, and you yelled at her like she committed a crime!"

Erran finally realized the extent of his behavior and looked ashamed. The Queen released him, and he walked away to stare out at the expanse of the plains. She followed him and stood by his side, waiting for him to calm down some more. "I am truly sorry. I just…if you knew what that symbol was for, you would understand."

She crossed her arms. "Then tell me what it is. What is this Talon Order you mentioned?"

"It is not something I've had to concern myself with for over two years. There were only five of us, sworn to secrecy. We were to protect the king…and Nabradia with our lives. By any means necessary. That bird was our symbol, something known only to our ranks and to the king himself…"

Ashe considered this new knowledge. "So someone from the Talon Order is using the Baknamy as their own army? But for what purpose? Why kill innocent people?"

He looked to her sadly. "I do not know. We swore to protect our king and country, and these people have done nothing to harm Nabradia. Especially since it doesn't even exist any longer. That some former companion of mine would sink to this grievous low….women and children!" He turned aside, and she began to walk away to give him a measure of privacy to mourn.

"Wait…Ashelia?" he asked, not breaking his gaze into the distance. She nodded in acknowledgment. "I would like to stay on in Rabanastre as long as needed. I want to help end this." She gave him a small smile and let him alone. He was already upset enough to be away from his home, and now he was offering his service indefinitely. She knew she had to find some way to repay his kindness.

She found Tylo and pulled him aside. "Lord Erran has new information to present the council about this bird insignia. I would first ask you to do something for him."

The old man nodded. "Anything, your Majesty. If I can be of any assistance to House Nabradia…"

Ashe shook her head at his enthusiasm. "I would ask you to send a ship to Mount Bur-Omisace. There is a woman there by the name of Rosa." She looked to see Erran still staring off at the plains, his mind far away. "Lord Erran has been greatly unsettled by these attacks, and I believe that having this woman, his…friend present will soothe his anxiety."

Tylo agreed. "I could tell that he was rather upset. I will be happy to make arrangements. Whenever your Majesty is ready to depart, we can return to Rabanastre to check the progress of our war effort."

The Queen shook her head, and she saw Balthier emerge from the tent to walk over. He gave her a quizzical look, and he stood awaiting further instructions. "Tylo, I will be staying the night in Giza," she remarked, and the old man immediately began to object.

"What? Your Highness, we have ships en route to Nabudis as we speak. You cannot…"

"I can," she replied. Her minister quieted down and waited for her to explain herself. "I am needed here. The people must know their Queen shares in their sorrow. I will remain until the dead can be buried."

"Then I will tend to affairs in Rabanastre. But I must insist that we leave a garrison here in Giza for your protection," Tylo responded.

She sighed at the old man's protectiveness. "A garrison for the village, not for myself. Leave only so many as are needed to help these men bury their families." Ashe looked to Balthier then, an unspoken question between them. He nodded, and she returned her gaze to her minister. "Master Bunansa will remain here as my personal guard if the need arises."

The minister's eyes were about to pop out of his skull at the thought of a sky pirate serving as her private guard, and not just a sky pirate…but her sky pirate lover. She withheld a smile and looked at Tylo sternly. "That will be all. I trust that you will make all the proper arrangements for Lord Erran's guest. I will return to Rabanastre tomorrow so we can consider the new knowledge we will receive from Lord Erran."

"As Your Majesty commands…" Tylo muttered, his voice trailing off as Balthier saluted him with a mock serious expression on his face. The older man walked away to speak with Erran, and Ashe held back the urge to smack the sky pirate for treating her trusted minister so flippantly.

"Thank you for staying, Balthier. Fran can stay as well." Balthier raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, and she sighed. "That is, if Fran wishes to stay here. I would definitely understand if she wishes to quit this place."

He turned to watch Erran trudge off after Tylo. "I imagine she will find something to fix on the Strahl. Or at the very least, I will hint that maybe she should look for something to fix…" He gave her a wicked grin, and she shook her head. How could he be like this with all of the death surrounding them?

A soldier approached then. "Your Highness, the men have said that they traditionally bury their dead at sundown. Will you be participating in the ceremony?"

"Yes, of course. Do they require assistance to prepare the bodies? I know it is usually the women's work…" With the deaths of her brothers, her mother and Rasler, Ashe had grown far too familiar with these tasks. She never wished to do them again, but with little Terra as the only female left in the village, the Queen could never force her to do them.

Balthier reverted to a more serious tone, and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I will help the men dig the…I will help prepare for the burials…" She let him go, and she was grateful to have him with her. The greedy, arrogant sky pirate front seemed to vanish, and the honest, caring man she had fallen for was reemerging.

The soldier led her back to the rows and rows of bodies. Ashe wished that her participation would bring some measure of comfort to the nomad people. As she began preparing jars of oil to anoint the bodies, she could not help thinking about Erran's explanation of the Talon Order. It was an organization to protect Nabradia. How could anyone sworn to protect cause all this destruction? Her first order of business tomorrow would be to track down the members of the Order.

The familiar scent of the oil drifted into her nostrils as she worked. It mingled with the sickening smell of the burned villagers, and she hoped that she would be able to stop the Baknamy and the despicable Hume who controlled them. The peace she had fought so hard for was at stake.

* * *

Balthier had not been so exhausted in his life. He almost wished to return to the measure of exhaustion he had felt the night before when he made the stupid decision to climb the Queen of Dalmasca's balcony in the dead of night. Never before had grave digger crossed his mind as a potential occupation, and he would not long to do that again for as long as he lived.

Then there was the actual burial. Picking up bodies wrapped in sheets, some of them so small that they were nearly weightless in his arms. Passing those white sheets down the line to be deposited in the graves. The shaking hands of the men of Giza as they broke down and had to leave the disturbing assembly line, Dalmascan soldiers taking their place.

But it was that poor little girl with Ashe by her side that had done it. He started to watch them throw handfuls of the dusty Giza soil onto each and every grave, nearly a hundred in total, and he'd had to walk away. He laid in a makeshift tent now, the ground cold and hard beneath him despite the provisions and camping gear supplied by Ashe's military.

It was almost like old times, he thought bitterly. The tent flap was opened then, and the Queen entered. Her own gear was set up in the tent beside him, and the soldiers had to know. He wondered if word of their sleeping arrangements would make it back to Rabanastre. As far as Balthier was concerned, he hoped it would, if only to stick it to that grumpy old man.

Ashe said nothing as she knelt down onto her little pile of blankets, and he could almost feel the tension that radiated from her. He only heard the sound of her breathing as she lay down on her side facing away from him. He remembered their card game the night before, the casual and relaxed woman he had been with last night now vanished behind the public face of Queen Ashelia.

He was upset to see her this way. He reached out a hand to her, settling it on her wrist. "How are you doing?"

She sighed loudly. "You shouldn't be in here with me, Balthier. People will talk."

He scooted across the blankets to pull him against her, wrapping an arm about her waist possessively. She went completely rigid against him, and he grumbled under his breath. The woman needed comforting, that was for damn sure. And despite his exhaustion, he was going to be the one to do the job.

The sky pirate brushed the hair away from her neck and began gently placing kisses on the delicate skin there. She tried to pull away, but he held her tighter. "Everyone is out cold at this hour, nobody is going to know," he whispered. Some part of him knew it was wrong, but he had to have her.

His fingers worked their way under her dress, but as he moved to turn her over onto her back, she moved away from him angrily. "How can you think of doing something like this when we're surrounded by death?" she uttered disapprovingly.

Balthier grabbed her a bit more roughly, turning her around to face him. "It is because we are surrounded by death that I think we should try to live." She was silent, her face naught more than her usual cold, royal demeanor that infuriated him. "Is there any way I could speak to Ashe tonight rather than Queen Ashelia Dalmasca?"

Her expression softened slightly. "Don't be like that," she mumbled, "You know my duty to these people. It would be a desecration."

She was probably right, but he could simply not will his desire away. If an entire village could be slaughtered so quickly, how fragile were their lives? Seeing the bodies of those defenseless people was having a more profound effect on him than he originally realized. He could not take the time he had with Ashe for granted. At present, she seemed to be far away, deep in thought.

Her sudden outburst then came as a shock to him. "Damn them!" she swore loudly, "These people, the Urutan…what have they done to Nabradia? Damn them for what they have done!"

She was shaking, and he grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he teased softly, trying desperately to calm her down.

Ashe scowled, the woman he cared for emerging at last from the royal mask. "No, but I do kiss a pirate's. Perhaps it is rubbing off on me."

She left it wide open for him. "What's that about rubbing now?" he asked, letting his foot stroke her ankle, and he finally managed to earn a chuckle from her.

"Can you be serious for once in your life, Balthier?" she inquired, offering him the hints of a smile, her lips quirked slightly upward.

"I can be very serious. But one cannot be that way eternally…throws life out of balance. And it is quite obvious that things are out of balance at present. Ashe, you're in the best years of your life, and you keep getting horrible things thrown at you." She raised an eyebrow at his flippant manner of reducing the horrific attacks to mere things, but he held up a hand to continue. "You spend every hour analyzing every minute detail, but you're going to burn yourself out at this rate. You need a holiday, let your council worry about the Baknamy for a day or two…"

"It is my responsibility to protect my people! That is the vow I made when I became Queen!" she protested.

"Tylo lives and breathes politics. Why not let him deal with the war preparations for a day? You're under too much stress," he argued, and she sighed in response.

She patted his cheek patronizingly. "Larsa faces the same dilemmas I do day in and day out. And he does not complain or…take a holiday, as you suggest."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, but Larsa has Basch. I'm convinced that man is more machine than Hume at times."

Ashe nearly burst into giggles, but she was able to contain herself considering their surroundings. "Balthier!" she chastised him with a poke to his shoulder.

"All protocol, no pizzazz," he grumbled and moved back to his half of the tent. "Just think about what I said. I don't want you to burn out."

He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. Ashe sighed quietly and slid over to him, snuggling close against him. Her arm draped itself across him and she laid her head down on his chest. "When we stop the Baknamy, Balthier. When we stop them I will consider a holiday. Is that fair?"

The sky pirate kissed the top of her head and released a yawn. "I am sure that can be arranged." He held her tightly against him, the charred smell in the village still floating in the air. Balthier hoped that holiday would come sooner rather than later.


	6. Ready and waiting to explode

The bombings had seemed to calm the Baknamy's wrath for the time being. Each day, Dalmascan and Archadian ships showered the grounds of the Deadlands with bombs. But knowing that a Hume was the one goading the Baknamy, Ashe could not yet be sure if the man's bloodlust was sated.

It had been nearly two weeks since the attacks in Giza, and while the security in Rabanastre remained heightened, the people of her capital seemed to be returning to some semblance of calm. In light of the attacks occurring so close to Rabanastre, the peace council had traveled north to Archades. Ashe was secretly glad for their departure. It was one less group of people urging her to march an army into the Deadlands to slaughter the Baknamy.

Lord Erran remained in Rabanastre, where he had been heading up efforts to find members of the Talon Order. There had only been four others besides himself, so tracking down the men was not going to be a problem. One man had been found in Nalbina, crippled by the war. His alibi was solid, having been unable to move from his lodgings without agonizing pain for the past few years. Another man was dead and buried near Balfonheim. Only two remained at large: Forres Hema and Lathan Ariz.

Town registers were being scoured across Ivalice in hopes of finding one of the men mentioned. Ashe had even sent word to the new rulers of Rozarria for their assistance. Erran had slept very little, spending most days and nights looking over registers himself in hopes of finding the men or discerning if they were living under an assumed name. Fortunately, Rosa had arrived from Mount Bur-Omisace and seemed to be very effective at helping Erran and keeping him calm. She was humble but charming with a quick wit. Erran had had no outbursts since that day in Giza, and Ashe was very happy for the young woman's presence in the palace.

As Ashe sat to supper that evening, she envied the open relationship Erran and Rosa could enjoy. Lord Erran had no Tylo of his own to chastise him. The Queen pretended to be very interested in the contents of her wine glass as Erran and Rosa joked and touched hands, completely comfortable with one another and unashamed.

"It is just like the time you tried to go garuda hunting with that stupid axe," the young woman teased, her dark gray eyes sparkling in amusement.

"What's this then?" Ashe inquired, and Rosa turned to her with a broad smile. Ashe knew that the young woman had been very hesitant around her earlier, but Rosa was growing a great deal more comfortable as she passed her days in Rabanastre.

Rosa gave Erran a slight jostle in the ribs with her elbow. "An axe! Can you believe it? He just was not thinking that day! I found him in a big snow drift an hour later. One of those enormous birds just slapped him aside with its wing like he was a fly!"

Ashe laughed at the thought, and Erran looked away in embarrassment. It appeared to make him a bit uncomfortable to see Rosa and Ashe spend most of their time teasing him. The Nabradian changed the topic then away from himself. "Ashelia, I received a message from the kiltias this afternoon. There was no mention of Hema or Ariz in the ledgers of pilgrims to the mountain."

Ashe sighed. Where were these men? One of them was responsible for the murder of so many, and the other needed to be cleared of suspicion so they could focus their plans. Their answer came sooner than expected. A messenger arrived bearing an envelope. Even from across the room, the Queen could see that horrible symbol serving as a seal to the message held within.

She stood and moved to take it from the messenger's hand. "Wait! Don't touch it!" Rosa screamed, rising from her seat so fast she tipped it back onto the ground with a crash.

Ashe snapped her hand away in surprise at the young woman's insistence. "What? Rosa, what is it?" she asked.

The young woman looked at her pleadingly. "It could be poisoned!" Erran burst out laughing at Rosa's suggestion, and she scowled at him. "It could be! I read it in a story before!"

The Queen smiled at Rosa's attempt to protect her. "I thank you, Rosa. It is very possible for mail to be tampered with, but if this message was laced in poison, I believe our poor messenger would not be alive here to hand it to us."

The young woman's cheeks burned in embarrassment, and she bowed humbly. Rosa had grown up as a refugee on the mountain and had known nothing but its tents and the snows of Paramina. Erran had said she was a bit inclined to believe everything she read, and Ashe remembered a time in her own life where she had known nothing but the palace. She could definitely understand Rosa's outburst. Ashe took the message from the messenger and dismissed him.

She frowned at the bird image and tore the envelope apart. "It appears we can call off the search for Forres Hema, Erran," she intoned softly, her eyes reading the message. The words burned, the pure venom behind them as harsh as any poison.

_Ashelia B'Nargin,_

_Your bombs only incite my forces to carry out further attacks. Nabudis fell and was forgotten. It is still forgotten. Yet you make no reprisal against the Archadian. You fail Lord Rasler. You fail Nabradia. You who are her legal queen, you call for peace to wash away the sins of the Solidor. For this grave betrayal, I will see your streets awash with blood. Your people will know the suffering of Nabradia, as I know her suffering._

_You will meet me at the Necrohol in a fortnight's time. If you will restore Nabradia and destroy the Solidor, I will consider a cessation of hostilities. If you will do naught, I will see the talons of our eagle carved into your flesh by my own hand._

_His Majesty's Eternal Servant,_

_Lathan Ariz_

Ashe felt her hand shake at the threat-laden missive, and Erran rose from his seat. "What does it say?" he asked quietly, and she handed it to him. She watched him read it and saw the anger rise inside him once more, his fingers gripping the letter tightly. Wordlessly, Rosa stood beside him and put her hand on his forearm.

The man's anger seemed to lessen at her touch, and the Queen was grateful for her presence. Erran set the letter down on the table and met her eyes. "He was the best of us, Ashelia. He was an honorable man."

She shook her head. "An honorable man living in the ruins of a capital he swore to protect. A man who has lived in the mist. Who knows how much it has twisted him?" she replied, the angry letter only inches away. It lay on the table, the words within it swirling in her mind now as well as on the page. _You fail Lord Rasler. You fail Nabradia._

"What will you do, my lady?" Rosa asked, her hand still a calming presence on Erran's arm. "He threatens your life."

That was a very good question, she thought sadly. "It is not the first time my life has been threatened," she mused. That was not what scared her…not entirely. _Your people will know the suffering of Nabradia. _

Before she realized it, Erran had insinuated himself right in front of her. "You are not thinking of negotiating with this monster?" he asked incredulously, his eyes desperately seeking hers.

"Negotiating? No, I would not call it that," she answered, still pondering what she was to do about this situation. She thought of the butchered Urutan, of the women and children of Giza. "I will meet with my council. Perhaps I can convince them to pursue this matter without bombs or invasion forces."

Erran and Rosa followed her to Tylo's chamber, and her council was summoned immediately. The letter was read aloud, the murmuring of the old men harsh to her ears. Hearing the words spoken was like uttering a forbidden curse. The room seemed cold to her, and she struggled with the thought of that hideous eagle being carved on her flesh. If such a threat came to fruition, would she still be alive when it was done? Would it feel like the talons of a bird crushing her?

"My lady? You are unwell."

"What? No. No, I am fine, just tired," she heard herself reply to Tylo's inquiry. She must have been in a daze, and she blinked, snapping back to as regal a demeanor as she could muster. It would not do to show weakness, especially with what she had decided.

Another minister cleared his throat. "We do not negotiate with this Ariz. Do we step up the bombings in Nabudis? Would you wish for ground troops, my lady?"

"No," she said, looking around between each face on the council. They were not going to like this. "No, I will go to Nabudis in a fortnight's time. And I will go alone."

-----------------------------

"If I'd have known the Dalmascan taxpayers were going to be coughing up their hard-earned gil to refit the Strahl, I would have volunteered this ship years ago," Balthier muttered as the blue skies over the Salikawood grew hazier, the wretched Deadlands growing nearer.

Fran smirked at his comment. "Preparing for silent running," she responded, flipping several newly installed switches on her side of the console. The ship shuddered slightly, the control panel flickering. Balthier gripped the controls nervously. Perhaps they should have tested the new cloak before flying all the way to Nabradia?

The lights in the cockpit went out, only the emergency lights remaining. "Silent running," he mumbled, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The old cloak was more of a parking safety measure for the Strahl. Now the latest technology, courtesy of the Draklor Laboratory and Queen Ashelia's citizens, kept the Strahl under cloak during flight. If he wasn't petrified by the thought of his ship blowing up, Balthier would take the time to enjoy the new device. It would make pillaging far easier in future.

But thinking about the Strahl blowing up in midair was far easier on his mind than the contents of that blasted letter from that Talon Order crackpot. Ashe was far more frightened of that damned letter than she let on, and he, Fran and Vaan had been given the delightful task of pulling reconnaissance. Though she had fought hard for it, her council had refused to allow her to travel to the Deadlands alone. Bombings would continue over Nabudis as if the letter had never arrived, but on this day, Ashe had sent him and the Strahl on a special mission.

On paper, and as far as her council knew, the Strahl was conducting an official reconnaissance mission. They were to fly as low as possible, the new cloak technology rendering them undetectable. They would be able to assess the damage the Dalmascan and Archadian forces had done to the Deadlands and the Necrohol. But Ashe had entrusted him and Fran with a different task. They were to focus mainly on the Necrohol itself, determining the best possible place for her to send a covert group to assassinate Lathan Ariz.

Balthier hoped that Ashe herself would not be stupid enough to risk her own life and go with them, and each time he had confronted her about it, she denied having an interest in doing so. Ashe, however, was often a terrible liar, but the sky pirate had let it slide for the time being. The Queen was under a lot of pressure from her council, even more so with the threat against her life from Ariz himself.

The dreaded "m" and "h" words, "marriage" and "heir" respectively, had become a repetitive topic of her latest daily meetings now that there was an official written threat to her life. But when Balthier had urged her to officially announce their relationship to get the council off her back, Ashe had refused. To publicly announce him as her consort or lover or whatever he was would make him a target for Ariz and the Baknamy as well. Balthier did not care one bit if he became a target, but Ashe had looked utterly terrified at the idea, and he backed down.

Surprisingly silent until then, Vaan rose from his seat behind them and looked out as the misty Deadlands surrounded the Strahl. "Are we really invisible to them?" the young man asked.

The sky pirate nodded. "Well, for all intents and purposes, yes. But the Strahl has a tail pipe if you recall, so they may be able to detect our exhaust. We are flying at the lowest possible threshold, but nobody's perfect."

Vaan gripped the back of his seat and inhaled sharply as some of the mist parted, and the Necrohol became visible in the distance. "You can see where the bombs hit," he mumbled.

Balthier felt himself grin uncontrollably at Vaan's words. "Well, the place was already in ruins before they bombed it, Vaan. It's just a bit more untidy now." Truthfully, the sky pirate was amazed that even with over two weeks of daily bombing runs, the Necrohol remained defiantly standing. A testament to centuries of sturdy Nabradian craftsmanship, the outer walls were marred but intact. Flying a low pass over the extent of the remnants of the Verdpale Palace, it looked like the best possible fortress a madman could hope for.

The bombings had done a great deal of damage though. Certain parts of the palace were decimated, probably preventing access to all parts of the vast complex. And if the bombings had been unsuccessful, the Necrohol's persistent slide into the swampy marsh left much of the palace inaccessible. This did not bode so well for Ashe's planned assassination squad. Lathan Ariz would know all possible routes of escape, and Ashe only had hers and Lord Erran's memories to help their navigation.

"Why do they not patrol outside the palace?" Fran wondered aloud, her keen eyes sharply scanning the grounds around the Verdpale as the Strahl completed another pass over the ruins.

"That's easy," Vaan replied confidently. "They know Ashe and Larsa are going to keep bombing them. Why hang around outside?"

The Viera wrinkled her nose. "I am not so sure that is the whole story," she remarked softly, and Balthier considered her ideas. As they continued their flight, the sky pirate noticed that there were no fallen Baknamy scattered around the ruins. He remembered the piles and piles of abandoned corpses in the sandsea. Surely they would have left the dead from the bombings outside as well? Unless…

"They're underground."

"What?" Vaan asked in surprise.

Balthier shook his head in disgust. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "It doesn't matter how much Ashe or Larsa bomb the Necrohol. You know how the palace is sinking. They've probably set themselves up rather nicely in the submerged chambers of the Necrohol. Probably tunnels all over the Deadlands now…they've had nearly three years to build. It's why none of the other patrols ever saw anyone above ground."

Fran nodded in agreement. "And when they leave the Deadlands, they use their invisibility magicks to enter places like Giza undetected. That's why Ariz chose the Baknamy…"

He remembered the way he was knocked to the ground weeks ago in Rabanastre, as if an invisible force had run past him. It was a Baknamy, and they were on their way to Giza. How many more were wandering Ivalice? How many could be in Rabanastre undetected?

"I think we have found out all we need to here," he announced loudly, trying to shake off the feeling that something was very wrong. Fran gave him a quizzical stare, and he looked away from her. The sky pirate piloted the Strahl back south, disengaging her cloak as soon as the mist-laden Deadlands were at their backs.

-----------------

The Queen's mind was anywhere but where it was supposed to be. It was almost time to break for the day, and she found her eyes drifting to the windows in hopes of catching a glimpse of the Strahl on its way back from Nabradia. And she was itching to get out of the palace grounds. One of the merchant stands in the Muthru Bazaar was celebrating its fiftieth year in the marketplace, and the Queen would be attending a ceremony at dusk to congratulate the owner.

The owner was the grandfather of one of Penelo's friends, and the younger girl had volunteered to be the "Royal Liaison" between the bazaar and the palace. With the recent tragedies, Penelo had asked Ashe to promote the ceremony and give the people something to celebrate. In exchange, the palace stores would receive some of the stand's best spices, and the Queen was eager to try them at her next meal.

But with the way her ministers droned on that afternoon, she wondered if she would even get a chance to eat that evening. They had reached the final item on the agenda nearly an hour ago, and several of the older men were bickering back and forth about some trivial matter. It was enough to make her long for more of an iron fist, but the council spoke for her people, and she would not silence them unless she really had to. She wondered how her father dealt with this incessant prattle day in and day out for so many years.

She supposed that she had let herself get a bit too distracted by her other musings when she suddenly realized that several pairs of expectant eyes were gazing in her direction. "I apologize. I think of my friends' safety in Nabudis." There were sympathetic smiles at her pathetic excuse, but one of the older men who sat around the council table used the distraction to steal the floor for himself.

"And we all pray for their safe return, Majesty. They aid Dalmasca with their swift reconnaissance in that fiendish land. But might I also beg your Majesty's forgiveness in asking, but have you thought on the council's request from yesterday's session?" the man asked, and Ashe had to bite her tongue at the man's outlandish and roundabout manner of speaking.

She knew she would not be able to get through the day without it. "You speak of my need for a husband, do you not, Minister Kessler?" The man nodded humbly, and she sat up straighter in her chair. If she was a man, would they press her like this every day? They stared at her expectantly, as they had each day for the past week. She had remained silent on the subject each time it was brought up, but on this occasion it was going to be different. She had far more important issues to worry about, and her ministers needed to reassess their priorities.

She gripped the ends of the chair's arms and looked at her ministers sternly. She would be no complacent maid. "Who would you have me wed, my lords?" At her question, the men were taken aback. She had simply dismissed them before, but now she was challenging them in return. None of them spoke, so she continued. "What of Lord Larsa? That would be most rewarding! A child groom." There was some hushed whispering at her attitude, and she stood to tower over them as they sat.

"How about a Rozarrian?" she inquired furiously. "Shall I go to bed with their new royal family since the last one would have had me murdered?" If only Balthier could see her now. He would enjoy this all too much.

Tylo cleared his throat. "Your Majesty is being unfair…we merely wish for what is in the best interests of Dalmasca."

She turned to her most trusted minister with a deathly glare. "You may as well suggest the King of the Malboros before I'll agree to any arrangement."

Minister Kessler made eye contact with Tylo then, and she knew that the council was about to reveal their trump card. The one point she could not contest with any success. Kessler looked at her solemnly, seeming to ignore the rather unfriendly manner with which she was conducting herself.

"What of Lord Erran? He remains the sole survivor of House Nabradia. It would not require a political alliance with Rozarria or Archadia." They had her. The murmured voices of her ministers increased in volume, a positively bubbly sound. They sounded like a group of chattering birds rather than old men.

They looked to her again, and the only arguments she could offer were useless. She had Balthier, and Erran had Rosa. These reasons were not good enough in their eyes when a political match could be made. She closed her eyes and gripped the table in front of her. "You are all dismissed for today." The men grumbled in irritation and rose from their seats noisily. She opened her eyes and met those of her highest minister. "Tylo, a word?"

He nodded and waited for the others to leave the chamber. "Your Majesty," he mumbled with a bow to her.

She sighed and bade him to sit. "I will decide if and when I will marry, Tylo."

Echarna frowned and shook his head. "With all due respect, Highness, your duty to Dalmasca is to produce an heir from a legitimate union."

The sincerity in his words prevented her from lashing out like she had in front of the others. He genuinely wished the best for Dalmasca. "And I promise that I will fulfill that duty. But not now. I am still young, Tylo. With the current crisis, I hardly think now is the time to plan a wedding."

The sincerity faded suddenly from the old man's features, and his eyes were calculating and shrewd. "Majesty, we seek not only Dalmasca's best interests, but the best interests of your royal reputation. Do you not hear the rumors? Does nothing reach your ears? It is no secret that you and that pirate…that you engage in…"

The old man's voice trailed off in embarrassment, and she felt her fists clench and unclench at his slight against Balthier. Her fury increased, thinking again that were she a man, this issue would make no difference. "Say it. Say what you are thinking."

Tylo seemed ashamed, and he had never ever voiced these thoughts aloud. As often as he had grumbled in the presence of the sky pirate, he had never given his official opinion to her. "Your Majesty," he muttered quietly, looking down to the marbled floor.

She knelt beside him and demanded he meet her gaze. "If it's such common knowledge, then you won't mind telling me what I engage in."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You grow more and more like your father with each passing day, my lady."

"Do not dodge me."

"Your Highness is unwed. It is irresponsible to carry on this sinful affair. You must consider Dalmasca's future," he argued insistently, his fingers tapping the arms of his seat.

She stood again, raising herself to her full height. "My relationship with Balthier is not affecting my ability to rule."

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. "No. No, it is not."

She grasped his hand and looked to him earnestly. "Then let me do my duty and rid Dalmasca of this heinous threat. This is first and foremost. I must protect my country. Spending valuable hours arguing over who I consort with in my free time is immaterial."

He shook his head sadly. "It is the opinion of the council that you do more, Majesty. Your duty as a wife and mother remains equally, if not more essential. Your life, and Dalmasca's future, is in peril every day you go without an heir."

Ashe released him and slapped a fist on the table in disgust. "What of my father?" she spat furiously, the memories all too vivid. "Nearly a battalion of children, and I am the only one left alive to carry on his legacy. Speak not to me of heirs!"

She wanted to continue, but a deafening explosion rocked her ears then. The chandeliers shook overhead, the walls of the palace rumbling with the sound. Ashe felt frozen in place, her argument with her minister already forgotten in the shock of the moment. The sound continued to ring in her ears as she snapped out of the surprise. Tylo rose to his feet as quickly as he could, and she hurried over to the windows.

"Has the palace been attacked?" she cried in shock, attempting to survey the palace grounds from her vantage point.

"Impossible, it sounded like it was a ways off," he replied quickly.

Several guards hurried in to check on her, and she thanked them. "We are fine. What is going on?"

One of the guards shook his head. "It sounds like it came from the western end of the city."

Realization dawned on her immediately, and she felt the same agony in the pit of her stomach that she had felt when she had seen the plume of smoke rising from Giza. "The bazaar…" She needed to see it. She raced from the room to find a window with a view to the southwest, Tylo and the guards shouting after her to wait. But she could not wait.

She hurried down the hall, her shoes making a terrible clattering noise against the polished tile and probably leaving several scuff marks along the length of the passageway. The Queen reached the large window at the end of the hall and nearly pressed herself against the glass. The Bahamut leered down at the city, and she turned her eyes away from the wreckage to see a black cloud of smoke rising from the area of the Muthru Bazaar.

Ariz must have known that she was to attend the ceremony in the bazaar and had she not been delayed with Tylo, she would have been there by now. How many people had gathered for the ceremony? She sank down with her back to the glass as she realized just who was gathered along with the rest.

Penelo.


End file.

Final Fantasy XII, Drama, Romance