Above Love 2/4

[alitaorg]

i wrote a series of four short final fantasy xii fanfic stories while spending christmas with my mother. perhaps i'll title it "above love" or "with how sad steps"? let me type it all out, and then we'll see.

Story Name: Above Love 2/4
Rating: G
Other characters/pairings: Main character is entirely new!
Warnings: Although it takes place after the game, none to speak of
Plotbunny: How does a woman begin a life of piracy (and not find herself in Balthier's bed)?

( Chapter One )

2.

A year's time found me laying weary eyes on Balfonheim, its peaks still silhouetted on the horizon. We'd been roaming the Plains the entire summer, intercepting foreign caravans and relieving them of their burdening valuables. Having left Rin's airship safely hidden by the sea, we walked the final leagues to Port, and by sundown everyone's nerves were as irritated as our feet.

Our expedition's company included three men, two young and one old: Rin, a caramel-skinned Bhujerban native with a beanpole for a body and long, shaggy black hair that perpetually fell into his dark eyes; Aevis, a young, lean-bodied man with dark hair spiked in the Rozzarian custom and bright green eyes; and Arast, stout as a barrel, with deep lines on his face and more than a few white hairs. Rin provided the vehicle for travel; Aevis had been on many such expeditions before and so knew the lay of the land; and Arast was a law of his own, a hard veteran whose skills at lock-picking and subterfuge were famed even in the pubs of Rabanastre. I was the company's scout and decoy - by far the most risky part to play of all, as my face would be seen by all we robbed while the rest of my company remained in the shadows. I had found a few simple ways to alter my appearance, taking care that the woman's face those unlucky travelers remembered was not mine.

I also stayed at Arast's side, closely studying his crafts. Although this behavior garnered ridicule from Rin and Aevis, I took their jeers with a tightly shut mouth. When my fledgling skills at lock-picking became an asset to the crew, the ridicule dropped to a simmer. Perhaps due to that, I practiced these skills with more bravery, and eagerly watched them improve. By the end of the journey, Arast had resigned himself to teaching me all he knew, and looked to me as a young apprentice.

As we walked - Aevis heading the group, followed by Rin (who had become more uneasy with every step that led us away from the ship, and who by now was nervously muttering about his love for his precious ship and the misfortune that would fall on any man who tried to take it), and Arast and I taking the rear. We were careful to walk between grassland and sand, to leave not one footprint, broken branch, or other sign of our presence. All eyes cautiously scanned the sea and the grassy bluff, searching for anyone who would attempt to play our game of valuables-relieving back on us - or, worse, who would trace our direction of travel back to the hidden ship, which yet held half our bounty. Dark, worn traveling robes concealed our bags and clothing. Not a sound. We walked on, my eyes constantly darting to the Port's silhouette.

It wasn't until we had met the path from the city to the east and were surrounded by other travelers taking the same journey that we relaxed enough to converse with each other. Aevis suggested we first visit a local tavern, the Silver Sun, to rest our legs for a while and plan where to sell off our newly acquired things. Arast looked to the city that now lay tantalizingly near to us. "Have you ever been to the Silver Sun?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Possibly. I've been to many places." Of course, I'd never been fewer than ten leagues away from Balfonheim, and had only seen it through a window of Rin's ship. My heart had already begun to swell at the sight of it, and I was very careful to hide my excitement from my company. Here, at Port, at last!

The din of the city was similar to Rabanastre, but the people were entirely different. Nearly all were dressed extravagantly, and there were many faces the like of whose I'd not ever seen before. I heard more than a few languages I did not understand, and even saw more than a few Viera, silently and stoically walking through the crowds.

I dropped behind Arast, and kept my eyes narrowed as if scanning the city for trouble. In truth, I was on guard against anyone from Rabanastre that might recognize me - although my preset appearance was much different from then. My hair, previously mouse-brown and tucked under a kerchief, was now dyed orange red, with sections knotted and braided. When I opened my cloak it revealed not a modest barmaid's dress with a worn apron, but a thick leather breastplate, engraved in a pattern woven with silver and steel, which lay over a light cotton tunic. My legs were lightly covered by wrapped pants of the sort found in Bhujerba, silk over muslin. They split above the knees to reveal my favorite prize from the latest raid: calf-high boots, dark leather plated with steel and gold. Leather braces that covered wrists to elbows completed this costume. Over my hips was slung a thick belt with a holster for my dagger and a pouch for potions. I wore no ear baubles nor jewelry, save my ring, the gift from Balthier.

One of the first gems of advice Arast gave me was: "The best disguise is extravagance. When you dress well, people you pass on the street will note your clothing, not your face." Arast followed his own advice, clad in a sharp emerald jacket and finely detailed pants; Rin and Aevis, not quite convinced of Arast's advice, preferred more subdued traveling clothing. Although wearing my costume with a straight face was a challenge in itself, memories of the brightly-attired thieves who had frequented the Sandsea, whose style I remembered but whose faces I couldn't quite recall, were proof to me that his advice was good. In my present dress, hair and all, I doubt I would have recognized myself.

Even so, there was no sense in inviting trouble, and so I watched for familiar faces, especially for one - the one I knew stood a good chance of appearing in this city. The previous owner of my ring. Yet, even if he saw me, I did not see him.

The Silver Sun was as different from the old Sandsea as Balfonheim from Rabanastre. The crowds that milled about, sat on tables, played lots, and scanned the notice board were overwhelmingly young, male, and questionable. Very few were older than Arast, and the only women I could see were barmaids, hags, or common wenches. I almost imagined that there was a quiet in the din when we entered, and while many eyes surveyed the tavern's newest arrivals, I also imagined brows were raised at the sight of the company's female member, who was either a well-paid lady of comfort or not a wench at all.

Rin immediately headed for the bar, and I detained him long enough to ask for a mulled cider before I took a seat at a nearby empty table as Aevis and Arast followed suit. I carefully slid the two heavy leather traveling bags, each filled with expensive possessions, from my shoulders, and situated them between my own back and the solid back of my chair, effectively hiding them from sight (another trick of Arast). The smallest pouch I kept in my lap, one hand firmly grasping its strings: this was the smallest and most valuable package, full of expensive rings slid from the fingers of the robbed elite. My shoulders, relieved of their heavy burdens, ached anew, and I pressed my fingers into the muscle to ease the dull sting. I held a practiced expression of calculated aloofness, which told the tavern's patrons that I was not breaking a sweat over carrying what treasure this little pouch may hold, yet aware of my surroundings and willing to hurt or kill a man who attempted to take what was now mine. Every pirate in the tavern sported this expression, with varying degrees of success. I idly looked around me, making sure to meet the gaze of any set of eyes that stared at me and hold the stare until they looked away. Although my clothes were chosen to attract attention, I was intent on ending any prolonging of such.

Arast, who had been conversing with some men at another table, sat by me with a wicked smile. "You're causing a stir, Sister Iris," he murmured with a gleeful tone. "Are you sure you've been here before?"

"Not as I am now," I replied nonchalantly (and somewhat truthfully), accepting the stein Rin passed to me.

As he and Aevis sat, Rin grumbled, "I thought having a woman on board would be a commodity, but I'll be damned if the whole Port won't remember us now."

"Me," I cuttingly corrected, "remember me. Or the fact that a woman pirate came to Port. And I can't be the only woman pirate these days, can I?" I posed this as a rhetorical question, yet as it hung in the air I began to truly wonder - was I? The possibility seemed hard to believe.

Arast dismissed the conversation with a shrug and a wave of his hand. "I don't keep track of such things. Anyhow, Rin, I'll not have you pretendin' you don't care for the attention."

This shut Rin up for good, and talk turned to plans for selling or storing the valuables we'd brought and returning to the ship for the rest. As I had already brought on my tired shoulders my share of the bounty (which, due to my being a novice who had to convince the company to take me, was predictably much smaller than theirs). I listened with detached interest, still holding my pouch on my lap, enjoying my brew, and scanning the tables around me.

When Rin and Aevis began arguing over the specifics of dividing what was left on the ship, Arast leaned to me and muttered by my ear, "Are you sure you're properly disguised? A man seated above us seems to know you."

I glanced to the tables on the loft above the bar, and saw Balthier. He was idly leaning on a rail protecting the patrons from a quick fall, his eyes glancing over the crowd. I knew him immediately. Then our eyes met, and held each other's gaze. He nodded down to me, as if a king to a trusted subject, and I smiled as I looked back to Arast. "He must be unsure of my occupation," I quipped, but Arast was not convinced.

After a couple of minutes of more idle banter and imagining Balthier's eyes on me, I announced: "Gentlemen." I drained the last of my mead, then continued: "I take my leave. I may be back later this eve, but if you are gone by then - I thank you for your company, and I hope to work with you again."

All three men nodded, Rin least agreeably of all. Aevis, ever one to meet a proper speech with one of his own, said, "You've been a valuable partner, Sister Iris. Should I plan to embark again before we meet next, I shall leave word here for you."

"That would require you ordering your own drinks next time," Rin added curtly. His expression softened, and he held his arm, palm up to me - "It was a pleasure, Sister. May it not be the last."

I clasped my palm to his forearm, as we'd done months before to seal our company before the expedition, and as I'd seen many businessmen enact at the Sandsea. He took my forearm too, and with the clap of palm to skin the company's seal was broken. Aevis and I offered each other our arms and did the same, but when I held my arm to Arast, he instead put his hand on my shoulder. "There are a couple of inns on the corner of Queen's way and the main street. I suggest you stay at one of 'em."

"Thank you, I may," I replied, unsure of what was happening. If our seal was not broken, I was bound to him by the land's law until it was. I added, "Thank you, Arast, for your instruction," again offering my am.

He watched me, then took my arm with his, an expression of affection and pride on his face. "I'll have more work for you another day," he said. "Happy sellin' until then." With a quick wink to me, he turned back to the table: "Now we'll talk about the most important share of all on that ship - mine!"

I quietly gathered my bags, left a coin for my mead, and strode out of the Silver Sun and back into the street. I did not look up at Balthier as I did so, and by the time I'd arrived at the first market with my cloak again tied tight around me, I had begun to wonder if I'd really seen him...or had merely fancied his features on another man's face.

The story I gave each of the market sellers was the same: I had inherited some fancy heirlooms by the death of a relative but traveled too much to keep them, yet would only part with them if the price was fair. In this way I avoided those who would take advantage of a naive woman, or those who would think me a common thief. As I traveled from market to market, through the end of sunset and into the evening, I picked up a few other items - namely, a strong dagger for a sheath hidden in my boot, a sheet of thin but strong piece chainmail which i planned to reinforce my wrapped trousers, and a new ring of tourmaline to guard me from poison. I also purchased another tunic and a more comfortable brocaded cloth bodice; while within the city walls, as long as I avoided the alleys' shadows, I had no need for battle armor. On a whim I traded a gaudy bracelet I'd taken from an aristocrat on the road in exchange for a sleek silver earband, although I refrained from any other frivolous purchases.

After I had unloaded my two heavy bags and sold or traded all I'd planned to, it was close to mid-night. I rented a room at one of the inns Arast had suggested, one nicer than any place I'd ever lived, for a week's time; a week in which I planned to rest, to explore the city I'd dreamed so much about, and above all to find more work. I wouldn't allow the success of my first group expedition to spoil me into idly waiting for the next to appear.

I washed my tunic and took a much-needed bath, then dressed in the tunic and bodice and only the silk layer of my pants, and headed back to the Silver Sun. I felt rather foolish for returning so late - there was no sense in expecting any of the party, or Balthier, to still be there. And even if Balthier was, it was equally foolish to expect his company as the way it had been at the Sandsea, now that we were indeed competitors. And, honestly, I was wary of the way I'd felt earlier when I saw him warmly gazing down at me. Still, I'd like to have a chance to express my gratitude to him - for the ring and the encouragement. It was really the least I could do.

Arast was still in the tavern, although he had moved to another table and had also evidently consumed many more steins in my absence. "Sister Iris!" he thunderously called as I walked through the doors, then waved me over with a mead-loosened hand.

I walked to his table, willing myself not to scan the loft above me for Balthier - Arast would call my earlier bluff immediately if I did. "Evening, Father Arast," I said ironically, unfastening my cloak as I sat by him and his guests, two older men I'd never seen. He introduced them with the same spirit of endearment that I'd only glimpsed at our earlier parting. "Oh, and your gentleman friend -" he added, suddenly looking up toward the loft and then back to me with a crooked grin - "and here I thought I saw you pretendin' you didn't know the lad. Must be my old age," he guffawed, and raised his stein to toast his friends.

I raised my head and looked up at the loft to see what was unmistakably Balthier smoothly descending the stairs and coming to our table. "You came back," he said to me as he sat in the last empty chair at the table, next to me.

"Iris, you should've told me you knew this man," Arast playfully reprimanded. "Why, had I known, I wouldn't have doubted your experience for a second!" I bowed my head but said nothing as Arast turned to Balthier and began to relate to him the the few memorable events of our expedition, down to the last anecdote and trivial detail. He boasted of how convincing I had been in my decoy of a stranded wayfarer, luring aristocrats away from their guards and their trunks as they followed me to give directions. How quick I had become at picking trunk locks. It was all I could do to sit still and listen, knowing that for all intents and purposes I was up for review by Balthier, who himself sat and regarded Arast much like he listened to thieves in the Sandsea a year ago, when I was naught but a misty-eyed barmaid daring to dream of such adventures. A feeling of shame began to creep over my heart - I was a fraud, a small-town girl who had masqueraded as a sky pirate for a year. And here sat a man who knew this, who surely was amused by my antics - who could easily tell Arast who I really was, take his ring back, and send me packing for my return to Rabanastre. I felt like hiding under the table by the time Arast brashly and drunkenly summed his last story with, "I tell you, Sister Iris has been quite a worker - bah, nobody works harder'n!"

"Now, tell me," Balthier politely interjected, speaking for the first time since Arast has commenced his ramblings, "why Sister Iris?" He was going to tell them my real name! I silently braced myself.

"Oh, yes, hah, it's because she's the most deviant sister I've ever met. Our mate Aevis deduced that since she'd no interest in men, she must be preppin' for a lifetime in a nunnery!" He chortled at this neverending joke made on my behalf.

When Balthier turned to me, one eyebrow raised, I shrugged, ignoring the burning feeling on my cheeks. "I didn't want distractions."

"No, no diversions for the lady, all business for Sister Iris," Arast cackled.

Balthier nodded thoughtfully, gazing at me before commenting, "Yes, that is about right for Iris." Even as he said the name I'd taken upon my leave of Rabanastre, his eyes twinkled. "Always with a mind to business." Was he mocking me still? Or was he really going to keep my name and past secret?

Arast took one look at Balthier, another to me, then pronounced wickedly, "Well, all of us must retire sooner or later!" He laughed at his own pun, then stood on shaky legs while gulping down the last of his stein. "And at tha', it's time for me to - retire." He laughed again, then shook a finger at me. "Now, Iris, don't you be a stranger. We'll have some more work for yuh soon enough."

I rose and steadied his arm until he was steady on his feet, smiling - whether at my teacher's joviality or with relief that I slipped detection, I did not quite know. "Thank you. I look forward to it."

I sank back into my chair when the doors closed behind him, tentatively facing Balthier, waiting for his words. He motioned to a barmaid for drinks, commenting quietly as she left, "Only a year ago..."

As his voice trailed off, I flippantly dismissed what he said: "A year? It does seem longer."

He looked me over, as he had twice before, taking me in from dark boots to bright red hair. When his eyes finally met mine, he raised his eyebrows - mockingly or not, I couldn't tell. "You've been busy," he observed simply.

When the barmaid came to the table with two of what I recognized as Balthier's cider-mead mix, I took a long drink before responding, "I've been lucky." The familiarity of his drink calmed my heart, and it was with a less-forced ease that I asked, "How has the year treated you?"

He mulled the question as he studied his stein, and as I looked for the source of his hesitation, I noticed the bare fourth finger of his left hand. "Your ring is gone," I added. Ah. A woman.

He looked at his finger, and something of a wistful smile played at his lips. "I have lost two rings now," he commented, meeting my gaze again, "to two women."

I chose my next words carefully, so eager to know that I could not help but ask: "And were they worthy sacrifices?"

His smile became sharper, and he brought the stein to his lips. "I think so," he said before taking a long drink, and it wasn't until he looked to my own hand that I realized I was absently twisting the ring he gave me around my finger. Did I do that often?

In part to cover my fluster, I said dryly, "Still, you should take better heed of your rings, lest you lose them all."

Balther half-laughed, half-scoffed, then returned, "I doubt you fear that, Sister." As an afterthought, he observed, "I don't see your necklace."

I brought my thumb to my bodice and hooked a chain looped around my neck but tucked into my tunic, letting the pendant rise from its hiding place inside my bodice before tucking it back. "In case someone recognizes it," I explained, "although I doubt anyone would believe," I leaned toward him and dropped my voice teasingly, "that a Sandsea barmaid could be at home here."

Balthier had leaned in slightly to hear me, and, looking far too closely at me, responded, "I did."

I took in his simple reply as I sat up again and took a contented drink from my stein. Again, the familiar taste. His mouth would taste the same. I smiled. "It's good to see you again, Balthier," I said.

He smiled back, the raised his stein to me. "To Iris."

I had thought on it before, and again I wondered what name he must have been born with, what name he laid to rest when he began his life anew, like I had. I lifted my stein to his, my smile broadening at the sharp sound of their meeting. "To life," I added, "and a life well lived."

We drained more than another stein and talked of the trades, intermittently teasing each other with dry mockery. The night had passed almost entirely into dawn before our conversation in the Silver Sun was concluded. Balthier walked with me out the door and down the quiet street, both of us still animated in conversation with the other. Our talk abruptly stopped when the street split, signaling our paring of ways. He gently took my right hand and brought it to his lips, and quietly kissed its third finger, around which the ring he'd given me snugly fit. Again the sensation of his lips, soft against my skin.

And it was then that the evening's drinking finally got the best of me, and I felt myself blush. Hoping the street lamps and the dimness of the morning's first light sufficiently hid the burning hue of my face and chest, I allowed him to hold my hand a second longer before he released it, and I let it fall, aching, to my side. "Goodnight," I murmured.

The fire of a nearby street lamp flickered on his face, as he smiled and replied, "Goodnight, Sister," before he turned and walked down the street. I turned as well, away from him, and silently made my way to the inn, my hand still aching from his touch and the resulting absence of it, my ears ringing from his words, and my mind sharply reprimanding them both. I was now all too aware of what I had foolishly allowed to happen to me, and slowly began to realize...I felt something for him, and had for a while. And although my heart sank as I thought on it, I knew that if I were to be the free woman I still wished to be, that would be the last I'd see of Balthier for a long, long time.

It was the only way to be alone, and free. Sad...and free.