Coming of Age - Part III-1

[thebasseffect]

Part 3

As much as Freas had faith in both her own skills and Nerua's, recently she was beginning to think she'd used up all her luck already. Retirement was sounding increasingly inviting. After being pseudo-arrested by in Bhujerba, Freas and Nerua had moved on to Rabanastre to pick the pockets of the wealthier Archadian officials who occupied Dalmasca, but after various misfortunes, had found themselves in the Nalbina Dungeons. While it had not been very hard to break out of the dungeons with Nerua's sharp nose to lead the way, they had unfortunately picked up another unwanted tagalong: Rynelia of Dalmasca, heir to a fallen kingdom, and quite the stubborn lady who would not take no for an answer. The way Freas saw it, it was a clear sign of losing the gods' favor to have royalty and Judges showing up around every corner.

Freas complained loudly, of course, but she could hardly leave a pretty lady like that locked up in such an inhospitable place. She had not presented herself as royalty at the time, only as an innocent girl locked up for no good reason. Freas's sense of chivalry wouldn't allow it. And when, once safely escaped from the dungeons, Rynelia had suggested venturing out for the Dynast King's lost treasure... well, Freas always had been easy to persuade as long as the persuader was a girl who would bat her lashes at Freas prettily enough.

And so, partly out of being a soft-hearted imbecile and partly out of chasing treasure, with a good dose of plain bad luck tossed in, Freas found herself in Rabanastre, roped into a hopeless rebellion against the Empire that she wanted nothing to do with. Sometimes she wondered why she didn't leave, but she always reminded herself that it would be suffering too great an injustice to be forced to leave without so much as compensation for her troubles. Ever since seeing Zann's ship in the desert, Freas had fallen in love with it. She wanted to steal it. That was all. And besides, she did not mind this part of the adventure much, sitting in the tavern and wiling away the long, hot desert days with plenty of fun and fresh ale, even if it only meant she had nothing else to do.

Hunched around a small table in the corner with other lounge-abouts in similar circumstances, Freas smiled at her fellow gamblers. "Shall we raise the stakes?" she asked and pushed forward a few more gold coins. In front of her, she had a seven, an eight, and a three. Eighteen.

When Zann came into the tavern, pushing drunken bodies out of the way for Caera, she caught Freas's eye almost immediately and Freas had to look up from her table. Zann's skin seemed a little bit darker than usual, as if she were covered in the desert sands, but that might have just been the bad lighting in the bar.

When she was a child, Freas had never had a name for the strange way her chest would fill out, warm and almost ready to burst, whenever the Judge complimented her or looked at her with a smile. So much of her adolescence had been defined by that fervent hero worship, the desire to please, impress, improve, but she had not known it herself then. A childish infatuation indeed. She had been so cut off from anything real in the outside world. The only people she had interacted with regularly besides some of the servants in the house were her father and the Judge. Of course she had been fascinated, albeit in a distorted fashion.

That still didn't explain the way Freas's stomach clenched now as she followed Zann with her eyes, watching her until she disappeared upstairs with Caera. The hero worship was long gone, but perhaps now Freas had a name for something different. Zann was quite beautiful, even objectively so, and the years had done nothing to lessen her charms. Though she did not wear her full armor anymore, that was not necessarily a bad thing. Aside from her light leather cuirass and the leather bracers on her forearms, her upper arms were usually exposed by her sleeveless overcoat-truly a skilled fighter's choice of range of movement over protection. Yet Freas did not think of fighting when she looked at the sinews and sculpted contours of Zann's arms, though they were the most concrete evidence of Zann's dedication to her job. She thought of licking and biting, making the skin glisten from something other than a battle or the midday sun, and felt almost guilty.

"Oi, are you taking a card or not?" the Bangaa to her right asked, his raspy reptilian voice even rougher with irritation now.

Freas looked back at her cards, as if she had not spent the last few minutes staring into space, dreaming about skin and sweat, and hesitated only slightly before saying, "Another card."

She felt like taking a chance with her luck. She liked to believe it was not all gone, after all.

* * *

It was nearly two weeks now that they had stayed in Rabanastre. Slowly but surely, the plans were coming together. Caera was now more or less completely on the side of the Dalmascan rebellion, although she and Rynelia still did not see eye-to-eye on all issues. As far as Freas could tell, Caera's aim was more to sneak back into Archades and confront her sister once and for all than to overthrow the Empire itself, while Rynelia wanted the Empire disbanded completely. That would be another obstacle in their rocky alliance that they would have to face, but only if and when they succeeded. If Freas were asked to bet on it, she would say Rynelia and Caera would never even get to that part.

Marquis Auria of Bhujerba, long a financial supporter of numerous anti-Empire organizations, also sent word that he was ready to assist the Dalmascan rebels in any way he could, and Rynelia took him at his word, even inviting him to Rabanastre for a meeting. Freas sat in the back, bored with all the discussion of politics and tactics, wondering for the millionth time why she did not simply leave, Jagd-navigable airships and pretty Judges be damned. At least Nerua had had the sense to sit out of the meeting.

"Over the years, the Resistance has grown strong in silence. I can amass a fleet at least five score strong within the next week-primarily the fleets of Bhujerba, but also smaller fleets scattered across Ivalice with various Resistance factions," said the Marquis, stroking the sphere of magicite mounted on his staff thoughtfully. "Of course, such a force would still be paltry next to the Archadian fleet."

"We cannot win in an all-out battle," Rynelia said firmly. "That is not to be our plan."

"Do you have any other plans?" Freas asked from the back, but she was ignored completely as Rynelia continued on.

"Our best chances lie in eliminating Ilea, and Ilea alone. We cannot take on an army, but if we can somehow reach Ilea and get her out of the way, the Empire without a leader will crumble on itself."

"Well, the whole point of the Empire is that you must go through the army to reach its leader," Freas said loudly, but again she was ignored.

"How about a diversion then? A small team can sneak into Archades and into the Imperial Palace while the army's attention is devoted to the fleet outside Archades," Zann suggested.

"Using one hundred ships and all those soldiers as bait? But they will be crushed by the Imperial fleet!" Caera balked.

"It is our only chance. And the only way the Dynast King's sword will be of any use. A sword was perhaps a great gift from the gods in an age when aerial warfare was limited, but in a battle in the skies it would be useless." Zann gestured towards the great sword Rynelia still took with her everywhere she went, clutched in her lap even now.

"Am I hearing things? You think it will be possible to infiltrate the Imperial Palace with a 'small team?' Zann, you have been there," Freas interrupted again, but this time, she was not ignored. Instead, Zann turned to glare at her.

"If you have nothing helpful to add, I suggest you wait outside."

"Oh, I think I'm being very helpful. I'm injecting a certain sense of, oh, I don't know, reality to this ridiculous meeting." Freas stood, throwing her hands up in disgust. "Archades is guarded by thousands of soldiers, and so is the Imperial Palace. How do you intend on getting inside the Palace without alerting the guards? Once the guards are alerted, how can you possibly assume you'll be able to fight them off by yourself?"

"...There are secret ways into the Palace that very few know of. I... I think I could get us in there without being noticed, at least for a short while," Caera ventured hesitantly.

"Oh, good, so perhaps you will have few extra minutes before the guards come after you." Freas snorted and sighed at the same time.

"A very long shot, but perhaps the only one we have," the Marquis mused, standing and pacing as well. "But what if the plan fails? Hundreds of men will die for naught."

Nobody could answer that question, and Freas sighed heavily as she plopped back down into her chair-a sigh of relief. At least they were not all completely insane.

Suddenly, Zann strode over and picked Freas up by back of her collar, dragging her towards the door. Freas squawked in indignation, but Zann was having none of it.

"If you're not going to contribute, at least let those of us who are serious discuss the matter in peace."

"I told you, I am contributing!"

Dumped unceremoniously on her backside in the corridor, Freas could only stare in amazement at the door closing in her face. Why did she not leave again? No woman or ship in Ivalice should have been worth this much trouble.

* * *

After many hours of pointless debate that did not make the rebels' plan any more sensible, it was decided that the Marquis would indeed orchestrate a smaller attack on Archades to distract the Imperial army, while Rynelia, Caera, and Zann would sneak into the palace and confront Ilea alone. At the dinner table, served in private in the backroom of the Sandsea tavern, they were still discussing it. Freas thought Nerua was doing an admirable job of keeping silent considering it was her first time hearing this nonsense.

"Even assuming she," Rynelia said, pointing to Caera, "can get us into the palace unnoticed, how will we get into Archades in the first place?"

"Some sort of false identification may be enough to fool the guards at the aerodome-they are never too bright or dedicated," said Zann, a piece of meat speared on her fork and hanging before her mouth until she was finished talking.

"Bhujerban passports, perhaps?" Caera asked, looking to the Marquis.

"It would not be hard to arrange, and believe me I am eager to assist you within my power... but it is risky. Lady Caera is royalty-there is no knowing whether she will be recognized somehow. The same goes for Judge Zann."

Freas smirked. The Marquis was the only one among them with any modicum of common sense. Although clearly not enough to reject this plan altogether.

Nerua nudged Freas gently under the table, leaning to whisper, "Are you planning to accompany them to Archades?"

"I do not have a death wish," was Freas's simple answer.

"Then I suggest we leave before they put this plan into action. It is not good luck for us."

Freas agreed with Nerua, but she frowned and said nothing, looking back to the others. She felt a strange reluctance to abandon them to their fate. A similar sort of guilt as might be aroused in passing by a drowning child without attempting to save it, perhaps.

"What about walking into the city gates? The security there is not as strict as in the aerodomes," Zann suggested again. It amazed Freas how a normally intelligent person such as Zann could be reduced to making such inane contributions over and over.

"Don't tell me none of you know of the sewers leading into Old Archades?" Freas blurted out, simply out of sheer surprise that it had not been brought up yet. The blank stares the others turned towards her confirmed her suspicions-she was surrounded by idiots. "Through the Sochen Caves, you can access the sewer system in Old Archades. It is a long way on foot, at least three or four days, but it is almost the only way to get into Archades without being stopped for identification."

Nerua gave Freas a long look, but Freas ignored her.

"I... I had completely forgotten. Yes, there is a sewer system down there, but it is never guarded. The Sochen Caves are too dangerous for that route to be any real threat," said Zann, as if thinking aloud to herself.

"Dangerous?" Rynelia asked.

"Monsters. Most adventurers wouldn't go down there for a three day journey to be attacked left and right by vicious animals."

Marquis Auria smiled, apparently quite amused, and looked at Freas directly. "Well, it certainly seems Lady Freas knows her way around caves and mines and foul creatures."

"Still, the caves are too dangerous to go in shorthanded. We would need some more people-more sword arms," Zann continued, mostly musing to herself, it seemed, until she looked at Freas and Nerua.

Freas smiled. She knew she was being roped into another stupid mission. It was strange that she did not feel half as annoyed as she felt she ought to.

* * *

The terms were simple. Clear cut. Freas and Nerua would accompany Rynelia, Caera, and Zann down the Sochen Caves and into Archades. Once they reached Archades, the sky pirates would be free to leave, and as payment for their troubles, they would receive Zann's airship. A ship that could fly into Jagd. Not a bad deal for at most four or five days of toil. And Freas had been pining after that ship, fallen head over heels at first sight. If Nerua disapproved, she did not say so out loud-and Freas preferred to think it was because Nerua had fallen in love with the ship too.

The Marquis left to prepare his fleets, while those remaining in Rabanastre busied themselves with stocking supplies for the long trip. Freas, who had ordered a new breastplate after her old one was ripped apart by the bull croc, took special care in tuning her new armor just as she liked, while Zann made sure to sharpen her blades to perfection and Nerua packed several spare bowstrings and new arrows. They all bought new cloaks made of good, thick material to ready themselves against the harsh chill of the underground caverns. Freas found she enjoyed keeping busy with preparations-even playing cards at taverns grew boring after too long.

The day before their departure, Nerua asked, "So, you would go through all this for the sake of a ship." They were both lying in bed, accustomed to sharing sleeping space by now, and Freas only shrugged, knowing Nerua's good eyes would catch the movement even in the darkness.

"Well, it beat all the other adventures we didn't have scheduled."

"You Humes are so hard to understand sometimes."

Freas snorted through a laugh. "And you Viera are so transparent, eh?"

She was rewarded with a punch to the stomach, but Nerua did not question her again.

* * *

The Sochen Caves were somehow much more brutal than the Dynast King's tomb, and Zann found herself wishing they had just taken up Bhujerban passports. It was not so much that the wild animals were stronger-it was that they were so many. Drawn to the smell of live prey and the light of the torches, they seemed to come from everywhere, even jumping upon the party from behind, where they had not thought to keep their guard up.

Zann held a torch in one hand and her sword in the other, her second sword returned to its sheath for now because she did not have a third hand. At least the torch was also a weapon, and Zann felt some bloodthirsty satisfaction when she singed a giant cave toad's snout with it, making it hop back and croak in pain. Cave toads, cave bats, the cat-like coeurls, imps, and even giant cave insects attacked them that first day, and even though they had stopped regularly for rest, by the time Zann pulled out her pocket watch and declared it time to rest for the day, everybody was exhausted and wounded.

Zann was no exception, settling down and leaning back against the wall of the cave with a sigh. Indeed, as the vanguard and most physical fighter in the party, she had been the one most abused during their trek down into the caves. Her body ached all over, and though Lady Caera's healing magick had alleviated most of the immediate pain, she still felt sore and tender.

However, they could not sleep in the caves without someone to stand watch, and Zann could hardly make Lady Caera or Rynelia, with their more delicate constitutions, forego their much needed rest, nor could she trust Freas or Nerua to be as vigilant in their guard as she would be herself. After all, in all the years Zann had known her, Freas had never reacted to lack of sleep well. So though Zann had been worn down the most during their trek down the caves, it was she who propped herself up against the wall and kept her eyes open, staring at the makeshift fire that provided a low orange circle of illumination in the pitch dark of underground.

The trip was estimated to take some three days, perhaps less if they could push their tempo. As Zann watched the fire burn, she could not help but think wearily that it would be a very long journey.

* * *

Freas awoke in the middle of the night, the cold hard ground biting into her back. During the night, she had shifted closer to Nerua, huddling against her for warmth, but even that was not enough to keep her from shivering as she woke. Nerua, used to nature's harsher climates, did not seem as discomfited, her breath even and deep as she slept. Freas grunted and sat up as she patted the ground beside her blindly for her waterskin. It was not the first time she had been envious of her partner's hardier constitution, but familiarity did not dull the twist of the feeling in her gut as she shivered once more.

The small fire they had started before they slept was now reduced to embers, and by the dim light, Freas could make out only outlines of sleeping figures. Rynelia by herself in the corner, wrapped around the Dynast King's sword as always, Caera curled into a small ball near the fire, and Zann, leaning against the wall of the cave, still sitting, but with her head hanging between her knees. Freas felt a pang of reluctant pity for the Judge; she worked herself so hard out of duty, without any consideration for her own needs. An attitude that Freas had fortunately freed herself of long ago, but one that still defined Zann's very life.

Freas took a long drink from her waterskin, and though the water was cold, it was better to be cold and sated than cold and licking one's parched lips. Reinvigorated, she stood, wincing when her joints creaked in protest after having been frozen in place for several hours. She rolled her shoulders a few times, pulling them back until they snapped into place with a satisfying crack, and walked towards Zann to crouch down and gently shake her awake by the shoulder.

Zann jerked awake at the barest touch, her hand immediately going to her sword, but Freas chuckled softly and pressed her down with both hands to restrain her. "Shh, it's fine. Not a monster, sorry."

Zann relaxed, but only slightly, groaning as she rubbed her face. "I fell asleep?" she asked, but it was barely even a question. More an inward rebuke, and Freas could not help rubbing Zann's shoulders lightly, just to try and soothe her distress. Once she realized what she was doing, however, she stopped and pulled back.

"You're not actually invincible, you know, even if you like to pretend otherwise." Freas settled herself down next to Zann instead, leaning back against the wall too, though the rock against her back chilled her so she shivered again. "Bleeding cold in here, isn't it?"

"It is not 'pretend.' It is necessity." Freas had been (mostly) joking, but Zann was as serious as ever, even only thirty seconds after waking up.

"Because you have to protect your Lady, I know, I know." Freas waved Zann's solemnity off with a laugh and a small shrug, looking down at her lap. "Still, that doesn't mean you don't need sleep."

Zann sighed and rubbed her forehead again. "Thank you for waking me," she said, her voice still raspy from sleep. There was something very vulnerable about the way Zann hung her head, so clearly blaming herself even though nothing had gone wrong for the brief lapse in her vigil, and Freas found herself reaching to pat her shoulder gently.

"Maybe you should go back to sleep. I can take over for a few hours." Zann looked surprised at the offer, enough that Freas wondered if she ought to feel insulted. "What? I can stand watch too, you know."

Zann smiled a little, although whether she was grateful or just laughing at the injured tone in Freas's voice, Freas could not tell. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm alright now. I've rested my eyes a bit, after all."

"Well, I'm not quite sleepy anymore, so I guess we can both stand watch, then." Freas did have a bit of a contrary streak in her, and saying no was as good a method of getting her to insist on having her own way as any. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her cloak around her legs to better conserve her own body heat, settling in for good. "Can't fall asleep if we're talking to each other, eh?"

"Nor if you attract all the monsters with your talking," Zann said flatly, but when Freas looked at her indignantly, she was smiling lightly. Zann had always liked to have a laugh at Freas's expense.

Freas grunted. She couldn't find a very good witty retort with her brain still slightly befuddled with the last cobwebs of drowsiness, so she ignored Zann's little jab and changed the subject. "Well, you can do the talking then. You never did tell me how you got tangled in this whole debacle, you know, and as long as we have nothing better to do, you can at least share." Freas knew about the attempt on Caera's life, of course; after all, that had been her window out of imprisonment in the Marquis's estate. What she did not know was what had happened to Zann in all those years they had lost touch; how she had ended up a Judge Magister, or how she had come to serve Caera. The youngest daughter of the late Emperor was certainly a step up from the daughter of the Chief Counsel.

"Debacle?"

"Well, yes, what you're attempting is rebellion and very likely to kill us all. I'm in this for the ship; what's your excuse?" There might have been other reasons beside the ship, but Freas wouldn't have admitted to them if she were threatened at gunpoint.

"It is my duty to protect Lady Caera. His Majesty the Emperor entrusted her to my care when he was still alive, and his death does not waive my responsibilities."

"Technically, your responsibilities lie with Ilea, not good old dad," Freas pointed out, not to be disagreeable but simply because she was curious. What duties could bind Zann so completely to Caera, who was only another heir to the Empire out of many?

Zann did not answer for a few seconds, and Freas could tell when her eyes shifted over to the sleeping form of Caera. "She's still so young," Zann said quietly. "She was even younger when I first... it's a long story, I suppose, but she made me who I am today. In turn, I will protect her until she can become the ruler I know she will be."

That was much too abstract an explanation for Freas, and she pressed further, quite insistent. "Made you who you are today?"

"I would never have been made Judge Magister if not for her favor. Indeed, many thought it was a blatantly biased choice when I was recommended for the honor. Lady Caera's favor earned me the Emperor's favor, and after he died, it swayed the Empress's hand as well." Zann was smiling again slightly, as if reminiscing, and the fondness in her expression irked Freas.

"Well, that decision's certainly come back to bite the Ilea from behind, eh?" Freas looked away from Zann, staring at the dying fire instead, and berated herself silently for caring at all.

Zann laughed, low and mirthless. "I suppose you're right."

The conversation lagged off then. Zann, predictably, did not speak without prompting from Freas, and Freas was no longer in the mood to share, simply gazing into the fire until she saw dark green shadows imprinted behind her eyelids when she blinked. She rested her chin on her knees and sighed softly, growing drowsier with each minute of silence.

Zann put a hand on Freas's shoulder gently, not shaking, just reassuringly there. "You can go back to sleep if you want. I'm awake now."

Probably burning with even more conviction for her duty to Caera. Freas merely grunted as she straightened herself up again. "No, I'm alright. You should go to sleep. I'll be fine by myself." The arch of Zann's eyebrow was clearly visible even in the low light, and Freas huffed. "And if I feel sleepy, I can kick Nerua awake until she pulls her weight, so stop worrying. For once, Zann, try to pretend that you trust me to have your back."

Zann seemed taken aback with the sudden earnestness, and she frowned. "I do trust you to have my back; I just-"

"Then go to bed already. Gods, you were always this stubborn, weren't you?" Freas reached out from under her cloak, where she had pulled her arms back to keep them warm, and pushed Zann lightly.

Zann swayed, but caught herself with a hand on the wall. "Hardly as stubborn as you, if memory serves." Zann shook her head, but she was smiling lightly again. "There's no dissuading you now, I see."

Freas shook her head as well.

"Well... thank you, then." Zann stood and stretched herself out lazily, even yawning once before laying herself down in front of Freas, closer to the fire. "Wake me again if you feel tired."

Freas swallowed once as she watched Zann lie down, her eyes drawn automatically to the curve of her hips when Zann twisted over to her side to get comfortable. She mumbled good night and looked away, sighing and scratching the ground with the heel of her boot petulantly. She wished she did not want to look.

She looked again a minute later anyway.

* * *

Except for her leather bracers, Zann still kept her arms bare to allow herself better range of movement, but there was obviously a tradeoff, such as the fact that that when she blindly pushed Lady Caera out of the way of a pouncing coeurl, its teeth sank directly into her skin with no barrier in the way, even though she held her shorter sword parallel to her arm in an attempt to shield it. With the impact, she dropped her sword and howled, yanking her arm back to try and shake the coeurl off, but its teeth held, slicing through the flesh and finding firm purchase.

The next few minutes were hazy, and Zann did not fully realize what happened as she nearly blacked out from the pain. There was shouting, several loud gunshots, a blinding burst of light-a spell of some sort, perhaps. When she gradually came to her senses, she was on the ground, with Lady Caera hovering over her, feverishly mumbling Cure over her wound. The others were bent over her as well, and Zann's eyes wandered restlessly from Nerua's impassiveness to Lady Caera's tight-lipped concern, Rynelia's honest alarm, then Freas's outrage. Freas said nothing at first, but the color in her cheeks and the way her nostrils flared spoke for itself. Zann groaned softly and closed her eyes.

"Are you crazy?" Freas's voice was softer than Zann had expected, but it was stiff and steeped in anger. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Zann still felt it had been worth it; if she hadn't intervened, it would have been Lady Caera who took the bite, and Zann was far sturdier than the princess. She did not have the energy to argue, however, and just groaned again.

"That was the stupidest possible thing you cou-"

"Be quiet, you're breaking my concentration!" Lady Caera snapped at Freas, glaring at her with her hands still on Zann's wound to staunch the flow of blood.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, she's hurt in the first place because you were standing there like an idiot!" Freas threw her hands up in disgust, but Nerua quietly stood and pulled her away from the huddle over Zann. Zann only heard the soft, soothing tones of Nerua's voice; she could not make out the words. In any event, it let Lady Caera return to healing Zann's arm-which was thankfully the left, not her main sword arm.

"She is rash," Zann murmured, short of breath but sincere. "Do not trouble yourself with her accusations."

"You should be more careful," Lady Caera whispered back, even as her hands started to glow, bathing the gashes in Zann's arm in gentle light. "I do not wish to see you hurt because of me."

"'Tis only my duty to protect." The pain was seeping away from her arm, and Zann even managed a small smile.

"Then you must stay with me 'til the end, is it not so? It won't do to have you fall here." Lady Caera looked quite tired, the hard journey's toll on her already showing in the gauntness of her face, but her magicks were unaffected, steady and strong as the Mist stitched Zann's rent flesh back together.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my Lady." Zann felt stronger now, much less lightheaded once the pain was down to a manageable level, and she propped herself up with her good arm, trying to gather herself back together.

They rested there for a few minutes, taking the time to heal their minor wounds and regroup. Zann's arm was nearly as good as new once Lady Caera was done with her treatment, and although it was still ginger, she felt strong enough to move on. She pushed herself to her feet and tested her arm, swinging it lightly, before bending down to reach for twin blades, both having fallen out of her grasp in the fight.

Suddenly, however, Freas appeared out of nowhere to block Zann with her body, wrenching the swords away from her.

"Stay in the back if you can't fight sensibly," Freas grunted, and Zann closed her eyes reflexively when Freas pushed something right at her. It pressed solidly against her chest, warm weight on her breastplate, and she was surprised when she opened her eyes and saw Freas's gun. "I'll take the front." Zann took the gun out of sheer surprise, her hand wrapping around the leather grip instinctively, but as soon as she had taken up the burden, Freas pulled away, taking the swords with her. She swung the larger of Zann's two swords expertly, familiarizing herself with its weight, and without meaning to, Zann found herself marveling at how much she could still see her own stance in the lines of Freas's body, even so many years after those old lessons.

"...can you handle the swords?" Rynelia seemed distrustful, eyeballing Freas doubtfully, but Freas turned such a glare towards her it was almost as if Zann could hear the snarl in the silence.

"Make yourself useful if you can handle the gun, and if you can't, at least stay out of trouble," Freas said, surly and gruff, and although Zann could have protested, she decided she would not bother. She had never won arguments against Freas even when Freas was seventeen; she knew she would not win now. So she only hefted the gun up, pointed it forward to test its weight tucked under her arm, and did not smile at how inept Freas was at expressing concern.

* * *

Freas and Nerua had agreed to stand watch that night, leaving no room for Zann to protest that she could still do her share. Her arm was more or less fine now; though Lady Caera was still young, she was a powerful healer, and Zann had enjoyed the luxury of staying behind the lines in the few skirmishes that had taken place since her injury. Freas, however, ever the stubborn one, would not hear of it, and had taken up her post, grabbing Nerua to keep her company. Privately, Zann thought Freas was just looking for trouble and did not let sympathy for the sky pirate tickle her conscience too much, but she did feel sorry for Nerua, who, though she accepted her fate rather serenely, always seemed to get dragged along by Freas's mulish whims.

Zann woke in the middle of the night anyway, her anxiousness at leaving Freas to guard duty alone keeping her from deep sleep. There was a rhythmic clacking sound coming from somewhere; she could not tell what it was, but perhaps that was what had roused her. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes, and squinted as she looked around.

The sound stopped almost immediately, and Zann saw Freas pushing herself up off the wall she had been leaning against. "What're you doing up? Go back to sleep." Freas's voice was low and raspy, as if she had been sleeping too, but probably it was only fatigue scraping her throat.

Zann ignored Freas's orders and stood up to approach her. As she sat down next to her, she coughed several times to clear her throat and smiled gratefully when Freas offered her a waterskin. The water was cold but only enough to be delicious, making Zann sigh in contentment as she settled back.

"I don't know why I ever expect you to listen to me," Freas grumbled, but she did not push Zann away, and Zann simply chose not to respond to her sulking.

"I thought Nerua was keeping you company," Zann said, looking around for the Viera.

"We decided to take turns. More efficient that way." Freas shrugged, jerking her head towards a dark corner, and Zann realized the long lump lying along the wall was in fact the Viera, hidden away from the light of the small fire. "I was about to wake her up anyway." Freas was still holding Zann's sword, the flat of the blade resting on her shoulder and when she flexed her wrist absently, the tip of the sword bumped against the wall. So the mysterious clacking sound was unveiled as Freas's restlessness. Zann had half-expected it, but Freas seemed even more anxious than Zann had thought.

"I'm fine, you know. There's no reason for you and Nerua to shoulder all the burden," Zann said gently, reaching to pat Freas on the shoulder, just to reassure.

"There's no reason for you to shoulder it all yourself either." Freas shrugged Zann's hand off, but she sounded less petulant at least. "I thought I told you last night you're not invincible."

Zann smiled a little, shrugging herself. "Well, you are not the only one who does not listen."

Freas scowled. "I listened better than you do now." Zann simply looked at Freas, but Freas did not seem to be much perturbed by her withering gaze. Instead of responding, she abruptly turned to look at Zann intently, reaching to take Zann's arm. "Are you really feeling better?" Freas's hands were rough but gentle when she pushed Zann's cloak back to look directly at the injury. Zann did not know if Freas could really see anything in the darkness, but she let Freas do as she pleased without complaint.

"I am fine."

Freas's fingers ran right over the healed wound, and though it did not hurt much, Zann shivered lightly. "It will probably scar." No doubt Freas could already feel the hardness of the Mist gathering under Zann's skin.

"It is hardly the first such injury I have taken in the line of duty." Zann had numerous scars, though most of them were faint enough that they were only visible if one looked very, very closely. She shrugged, pulling her arm away once she felt Freas would be satisfied with how it had healed. "After all, I acquired a Judgeship Magister with such a scar as this."

Freas turned away, settling her back against the wall again and looking away from Zann. "Ah," was her noncommittal response. "So you earned Caera's favor with your idiocy."

Zann laughed softly.

It had been in Bhujerba, after she had left Archades. Ironic that the political exile the Chief Counsel Auratis had sent her into had been the very key to Zann's political success. Lady Caera had been very young indeed, barely even twelve years of age, and Zann had not had to think about hurling herself between Lady Caera and a fell wolf in the Lhusu Mines. She still had the scar from its claws on her shoulder, but it had earned her the Emperor's favor-he had still been alive then-and Lady Caera's. Well worth a mere cosmetic flaw in the long run. She had her suspicions that Freas would not agree, however, so she did not share her recollections and merely shrugged.

"I suppose you could say that."

"You need to learn to take better care of yourself. You put yourself on the line for your duty every day, but it's not like anyone's going to thank you for it. Probably going to see you hang for it, actually." Freas's voice was harsh and bitter, but Zann could not blame her. She did not know how to answer such an accusation, but Freas did not seem inclined to elaborate, and after a long moment of awkward silence, Zann sighed and attempted to coax Freas back into conversation.

"...I am sorry about your father," Zann said quietly, tilting her head back against the wall and looking away from Freas. "I would have liked to have been there to talk to you when it happened." Perhaps if Zann had been there, Freas would not have left.

Freas's shoulders jerked violently as she waved Zann's concern off, simply insisting, "The Empire doesn't reward loyalty or duty, Zann. Don't die for such foolish romantic notions."

Zann could not help her small smile. "So that is why you left? For the most sensible notion of becoming a sky pirate?" It was not meant to belittle Freas, but it was amusing, one had to admit, that Freas of all people would scold Zann for romanticism.

Freas scowled and hunched her shoulders defensively. "I had nothing sensible left to do. I lost everything; it made as much sense to pursue a foolish dream as anything else." Freas shrugged then, looking back at Zann. "And I have been successful, have I not?"

If one counted success by how many wanted posters of Freas' face were posted across the Empire, very successful indeed. Zann sighed, though, and shifted restlessly. "Too successful, I would say." She still disliked Freas's chosen vocation very much, if for no other reason than that it put Freas on the wrong side of the law. Zann would not enjoy pursuing her once their tenuous alliance ended. Perhaps, once everything was over, Freas would be able to return to Archades, her family name cleared, and Zann would not be forced into such an undesirable position.

Freas smirked triumphantly, clearly pleased that Zann would acknowledge her notoriety, with no desire at all to return to a lawful existence as Zann hoped. "See? It's quite obvious that I'm the one with the right idea," she said, chuckling to herself as she turned back to look at Zann. "And until you admit that, I won't let you kill yourself for nothing, you know."

"Oh, and I suppose you'll stop me?"

"Yes, I will." Freas sounded more serious than Zann had expected, and suddenly she reached out to cup Zann's cheek in one hand. Zann was too surprised to react at first, both at the action and at how large Freas's hand was, warm and firm against her skin, and she simply blinked. "I won't let you die." Freas was leaning closer now, and Zann could feel her breath on her cheek, warm and damp. Zann closed her eyes because she did not know what else to do, and then Freas's lips, chapped and a little rough, but so light, barely even there, pressed against Zann's.

It would be a lie to say she had never imagined it. If she had not, there would be no reason to be so shocked. It had been in the back of her mind for quite some time now, although she had never admitted it to herself. Now that it was happening, she did not know what she felt, only that the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.

"...I don't have much left that I want to protect," Freas whispered, pulling back just enough to make out the words, and it was small and vulnerable in a way Zann had almost forgotten Freas could be. "And you already know I'm stubborn."

Freas was still close, but there was enough space between them for Zann to lick her lips nervously. She had imagined it. She had always stopped herself before reaching the part where she would gently tell Freas that it was inappropriate and that it should not happen again. She had not actually thought it would come to pass.

"Freas, this is not-" Freas did not let Zann finish the sentence, which was just as well, because Zann did not have much of an idea of what to say after the word 'not.' She gasped softly when Freas kissed her again with more confidence, and, despite herself, she remembered what Freas looked like with her shirt unbuttoned, her hair mussed, smirking with promise in that shabby inn. Jerking away from Freas with effort, Zann closed her eyes as if that would block out the image. "Freas, no."

Zann actually heard Freas swallow; and then Freas pulled back away from Zann stiffly. "...sorry, got a bit carried away there, I suppose." Freas's voice was strained with forced levity, and she looked away, so that when Zann hesitantly opened her eyes again, only Freas's profile was visible to her now. In the dim light, it was hard to see the finer nuances of her expression, which appeared quite blank.

"It is not..." Zann sighed and fumbled for the words. "We can talk about it later, when we are not..." Zann wondered what she could say after that. Fighting for their lives? On opposite sides of the law?

"Right. Later." Freas shrugged twitchily and did not look at Zann. "You should go back to bed. I'll stay on watch."

Zann could have argued, but she knew that was Freas's way of saying she wanted nothing to do with Zann at the moment, and Zann did not know how to undo the last few minutes. So she simply returned to where she had lain before next to the fire, shivering at how cold the ground seemed now, and did not sleep.

* * *

It had been a horrible idea. A horrible, horrible idea.

Sitting alone in the darkness, Freas agonized over the worst five minutes of her life, unable to sleep and unable to wake Nerua for fear that those five minutes would be written all over her face for her friend to see. She hated that Zann had somehow made her care again. She was not seventeen anymore; she was past this sort of juvenile infatuation, and yet. She had not meant to kiss Zann-at least not under circumstances like this-but after having seen Zann nearly kill herself, she had realized just how fragile the situation was, just how likely it was that they would never have any better circumstances under which to kiss. It had made her rash, but even more so was the reason Zann put herself so recklessly in harm's way. She could not stand the idea of Zann sacrificing herself for Caera. Caera, heir to the Empire that had murdered her father, but also a girl, a girl under Zann's tutelage, much like Freas had been herself, once upon a time when she too had had Zann's affection. The thought that Zann now directed all her loyalty to Caera made her physically ill, burning inside her chest, and she twitched again restlessly, dragging Zann's sword across the stone wall of the cave with every movement. Such a juvenile jealousy, and Freas even knew it, but she could not stop it, and that very inability infuriated her more than anything.

She did not know if Zann slept. Perhaps Zann was still awake, lying there, so tantalizingly close, and laughing at Freas's anxious discomfort. Freas scowled at the thought and forced herself to look away. Zann still thought of her as a child, no doubt. That was what she would tell Freas later, that it was inappropriate, because Freas was too young, too immature and stubborn, because-

She should have disregarded Zann's qualms. In all probability they were going to die in Archades anyway; she should have just listened to the fast beat of Zann's heart under her hands and gone for it. At least then she could have died not wondering what it would feel like to hold Zann, that damning question that had haunted her for so long, whether she admitted it or not. Now all she had was the slightest taste, lingering on her tongue, and that was even worse than wondering.

Freas jumped when a shadow fell over her, blocking the fire's low burn. It was only Nerua, however, preternaturally quiet in her movements, and Freas relaxed again, scowling up at her friend.

"You scared me."

"You are troubled," was Nerua's non sequitur response. Freas sighed. Sometimes she really hated Viera senses.

"It's nothing. Why are you up already? I was going to wake you up when it's time to change shifts." Freas shrugged and changed the subject. Nerua was not the only one who could wrestle the conversation along preferred lines.

"You have been increasingly agitated since staying in Rabanastre," Nerua replied evenly, maddeningly unruffled. Freas sighed again, louder this time, and glared up at Nerua. Nerua was so bloody tall too; it hurt Freas's neck to look up at her.

"No, I have not. Stop being so loud, you'll wake everybody up."

"I am worried about you. Your... feelings for Judge Zann are proving to be a severe distraction."

Freas growled and stood, putting Zann's sword aside before storming off into the corner. "I do not have feelings for Zann." With enough indignation, Freas almost pulled that one off. "I'm sleeping. Good night."

Nerua did not move, still standing in front of the spot Freas had been sitting moments ago, but she did turn to call out, "Oh, yes, run. Isn't that what sky pirates do?"

Freas did not answer, only covering her head with her cloak as she lay down, but inside, she felt the truth of Nerua's words and ached.

* * *

Breakfast was a sullen, chilly affair. Zann wrapped herself in her cloak protectively as she hunkered down next to the fire, unwrapping one of her rations and grimacing when she found it half ground to powder. They had eaten nothing but their rations for the past two days, and by now, many of the small cakes were little more than crumbling bits, smashed inside their sacks during the rough and tumble of the day. If Zann never saw another dried cake of rations, it would be too soon.

According to their estimations, at any rate, they were slated to reach the final caverns that connected into the sewers of Old Archades today, and emerging aboveground could not be too far after that. Zann was quite grateful at the prospect; getting out of the cramped, claustrophobic atmosphere the Sochen Caves had thrust upon them would be good for all of them.

Although they were all tired, perhaps the others sensed the odd tension that encircled the little fire, floating between Freas and Zann. Truthfully, it was mostly Freas who was radiating churlishness, sitting in silence and refusing to look at anyone as she nibbled at her rations. Following her example, nobody said anything save what was absolutely necessary, and the rest of the time they just looked at each other uneasily, as if attempting to discern the cause for Freas's foul mood through furtive communication.

Zann said nothing. It was very childish for Freas to sulk so, but while it had not been entirely unexpected on Zann's part, there was nothing she could really do or say in front of the other members of their party to calm her.

"Well... shall we be off then?" Rynelia ventured first after looking around to make sure everybody had finished their meager meals. Her remark sliced through the suffocating atmosphere and immediately, as if they had been waiting, everybody stood and started to gather their things to close up the camp. Even Freas dragged herself to her feet.

Zann stood and walked over to her sword, which Freas had left propped up against the wall of the cave. Just as she was about to take it, however, Freas's large frame bumped her aside and she snatched the sword away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Freas scowled and took a step back, keeping the sword out of Zann's reach. "I told you to take the gun."

For several long moments, Zann was too surprised to actually answer. The silence dragged on indefinitely, until Zann sighed and shook her head.

"I am uninjured. There is no reason-"

"The new scar you're boasting is reason enough. Stay in the back."

Zann was not very quick to anger, but now she frowned, irritation showing in the deep crease of her brow. "Give me back my sword. You've no right to order me about."

"You can stand to learn how to use other weapons. Think of it as an opportunity to, you know, expand your repertoire. Something like that." Freas smirked slightly and turned away, only to be stopped by Zann's hand on her arm, tight and firm.

"I don't believe my repertoire is in any dire need of expansion." Zann kept her tone light, but her eyes were deadly serious as she stared at Freas. "Give me my sword."

Freas looked back at Zann, undaunted. "No."

Nerua stepped between them smoothly, showing surprising strength as she calmly removed Zann's hand from Freas's arm. "It serves no purpose to quarrel here so. Freas, give her the sword."

Freas, however, took another step back and shook her head. "No."

"We are getting behind schedule. Stop behaving like a child," Zann snapped and took a threatening step closer to Freas, ready to lunge for her sword if need be. Nerua, however, somehow maneuvered herself right in front of Zann again, keeping the two separated.

Freas laughed bitterly. "Perhaps if you stop treating me like one. And stop overestimating your own strength and maturity for that matter."

Zann would have responded, but Nerua, apparently having decided that Zann would be easier to manipulate, pulled her away to the side. When she lowered her voice, Zann had to strain to hear her even in the echoing silence of the cavern.

"Sometimes the best solution is simply to indulge stubbornness. Let her take the front today. We will be out of the Sochen Caves by nightfall; it will be not be a long time, and I promise you I will have her see reason by the end of today."

"She is throwing a tantrum. The answer is not to appease her."

Nerua smiled ever so slightly and kept her hand on Zann's shoulder, heavy. "I believe I have already told you once that you do not know her very well. She will not relent, not as she is now, and I assume you do not want to subdue her through force. If we leave now, she will cool off soon enough. As you yourself said, we can ill afford a delay." The smoothly accented tone of Nerua's voice was somehow calming, and despite her anger, Zann saw at least the truth in her words. Freas was angrier than Zann had ever seen her, and if she was honest with herself, she did not see a way to win against such stubbornness without paying too steep a price.

Reluctantly, Zann sighed and nodded, turning her gaze away. "Very well. I shall look to you to speak to her."

"I believe she would rather you speak to her, but I suppose I shall suffice."

Zann looked up sharply, but Nerua's face betrayed nothing, completely placid, with only a hint of a smile in her eyes. Zann did not like it; it felt like Nerua was laughing at her. Her own eyes narrowed, Zann looked at Nerua for several moments before turning away again to stride over to where she had left Freas's gun.

"...well, shall we be off then?" Rynelia asked again, warily tracking Freas and Zann alternately with her gaze. Zann just shot her a glare-being a smart-aleck was unbecoming to one of Rynelia's birth, no matter how much life had lowered her station-and shouldered the gun silently.

"Let us hurry; we enter Archades tonight."

Nerua's voice was as unhurried as ever as she tugged Freas around nonchalantly and nudged her to start her off in the right direction, and though Freas turned back to make a face at Nerua, she complied surprisingly willingly. Rynelia followed them, while Zann fell in step next to Lady Caera, lagging several steps behind the others.

"Did something happen last night?" Lady Caera whispered to Zann, sticking close to her and sending surreptitious glances towards Freas and Nerua in front to make sure they were not eavesdropping.

Zann hesitated for several moments but soon shook her head. "Do not worry yourself about Freas, my Lady. There was a minor incident, but her mood will pass."

Lady Caera nodded slowly. "If you're sure everything's all right with you, Judge Zann."

Zann smiled, pleasantly surprised that Lady Caera would be so concerned of her well-being. "I assure you everything is under control." Seemingly satisfied, Lady Caera turned her gaze back to the trail ahead of them, although she still stayed close to Zann's side.

In retrospect, perhaps letting Freas take the lead was not such a bad thing after all. It allowed Zann to stay closer to Lady Caera's side, the better to protect her. Bolstered by that thought, Zann gripped the butt of Freas's gun more tightly and kept her steps in tandem with her princess's.

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