Balthier led the group out of the dark confines of the Sochen Cave Palace, which had seemed both mystical and enigmatic with its carefully carved stone pillars and hazy, Misty atmosphere, into the rather horrid bowels of Old Archades, which reeked of human filth and general ill-repair. The buildings, which were beautifully constructed and had, perhaps long ago, been a bustling city center, were now fallen by the side of the metropolis like a lame chocobo, useless and looked down on.

Vaan had wrinkled his nose and asked about it, but Ashe wasn’t much interested in the response to his inquiry, for her eyes were fixated on the dwellings and hovels that surrounded them as they made their way through the streets, trudging through mud and other things she didn’t care to think on. Just thinking about Archades’ own citizens living in such horrible conditions while the Empire turned its sight away and started long-suffering wars with the adjoining nations made her slightly ill.

They came across several people who were lying by the side of the street, and then they nearly ran smack into a man wearing torn green pants and a wide, slightly sardonic smile. Ashe could instantly sense the tension in the air, and happened to be glancing at Balthier when his face wrinkled into a momentary flicker of annoyance.

She was so caught off-guard by the subtle reaction the man elicited that she missed the introduction between them, and mentally chastised herself for not paying attention to someone who could turn out to be an enemy or an ally. If Balthier’s emotions had anything to do with it, she should be wary of the man and any information or aid he might possess.

“Information is what sells here,” the stranger was saying, and his gaze kept raking over Ashe like someone who might be appraising a herd of cockatrice. She felt uncomfortable when his eyes settled on her, and struggled to keep her own gaze elsewhere while he was speaking to the group.

“Nothing has changed, has it?” Balthier asked. “I suppose news of the prodigal son’s return is enough to make a hefty profit from.”

Ashe looked at Balthier then, because she wasn’t sure if his confession to her at the Phon Coast had been one that the others had later picked up on, or if his rather vague comment to the stranger would be confused by the other members of their party. She had little time to analyze it, because then the man, whom she realized was being referred to as Jules, looked at her with his harsh, demanding gaze again, and she was forced to meet it.

When Vaan broke away from the group to tell one of the citizens of Old Archades of the supposed news of his “coin purse”, Ashe pulled Balthier aside with a hard tug to his shirt sleeve.

“He knows,” she hissed in her comrade’s ear. “He knows who I am, and he is going to sell the information to whoever will take it.”

“He doesn’t know who you are, princess,” Balthier replied, looking, again, somewhat amused, and Ashe found herself hating that closed, mask-like expression.

“Then why does he continue to stare at me?” she demanded. “He must know something.”

There was another flicker across the sky pirate’s face, like something she simply couldn’t place, and then it was gone, but he was gazing out at where Jules had disappeared looking contemplative.

“He always knows something,” Balthier told her, stepping away from the alcove she had dragged him into and dusting off his sleeves in a decidedly snobby manner.

“And information can be both beneficial and harmful to us right now,” Ashe said, unable to keep the desperation from creeping into her tone. She had not battled this far only to be sold out by a greedy man who lived his life in the unfortunate slums, and the fear of being discovered so close to their goal was nearly overpowering.

“I urge to relax,” he said to her, grinning wryly over his shoulder.

“Balthier,” she hissed again, grabbing at his sleeve once more. The action had proved effective, and he did not pull his arm away. “I’m serious. What is to stop him from spreading word of your return?”

“Nothing,” the pirate told her with an unnerving, easy calm. “But he won’t.”

“Why do you trust him?” she asked.

“Why do you trust me?” Balthier answered her with his own question, and Ashe dropped his sleeve, completely unable to respond. She couldn’t tell him that she trusted him because having him fighting next to her made her feel comfortable and safe, or that knowing he was behind her in her decisions doubled her strength. Most of what she felt towards him was shrouded in clouds, like a hazy fog, and even she didn’t understand it.

He walked off leaving her feeling as if every time she spoke with him, he only inspired more confusion, and she once again cursed his ability to worm his way under her shields and infiltrate her mind.

o.0.o.0.o.

Everything after that happened so quickly, escalating into the infiltration at Draklor Laboratories, and all of it only helped to aid the chaos already swarming around Ashe’s mind. And then Doctor Cid had said those things, and it only made everything worse, and she could no longer pick out which were her thoughts, and which belonged to other people.

She had watched throughout the stealthy entrance into the laboratories until the showdown with Cid had happened, and she found little on her companions faces to give her any indication of how they were feeling. Vaan and Penelo seemed disinterested in the entire ordeal, Basch was set on his goals, Fran was impassive as ever, and Balthier, the only one who she thought should be feeling anything strongly, seemed just as flippant and uncaring as ever before.

“Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca!” Doctor Cid shouted as he clutched to the hover device and shot up towards the sky, shouting her name over and over in a voice that sounded so much like Balthier’s that it nearly broke her heart, and yet so twisted that it nearly made her cringe.

“I hate it when he does that,” Balthier commented, sounding as if he really didn’t hate it as much as distrusted it, but he turned his head to the side so he didn’t have to watch his father disappear into the clouds.

Ashe saw the pain that crossed his features then. She knew he meant for his face to be hidden in the shadows, but she was standing directly behind him, and the light from the windows behind them was just enough to illuminate his features. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, struggling with the emotion, and instinctively Ashe reached out for his hand.

She never managed to grasp his fingers, for Fran moved suddenly on her other side, and the movement startled her enough that she froze. And then Balthier’s face was cool and calm and neutral again, and Reddas was speaking, and Ashe could only stare at the Viera wondering if perhaps she had not given enough credit to the woman, and that she knew far, far more than she let on.

“I will help you,” Reddas was saying. “Accompany me to my ship, and I shall lend you what aid I can.”

“Thank you,” Ashe replied, shaking her head somewhat to try and make sense of her whirlwind thoughts.

“Balfonheim Port?” Basch asked as the bald pirate turned around and made for the passage back into the laboratory area. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Quite sure,” Reddas answered, sheathing his rounded blades. “Follow me.”

The group did as he told and began to move back into the laboratories from the observation deck, but Ashe stayed behind, staring up into the sky where Cid had disappeared into, wishing that he would have said something that helped her instead of rattled her, and wishing that for once, everything in her head would make sense.

There was a pause in the footsteps at the exit of the balcony, and Ashe sighed softly.

“You shouldn’t let him get to you,” Balthier called, his voice sounding strangely distorted over the breeze.

“I could say the same to you,” she responded in kind.

“He doesn’t bother me,” the sky pirate laughed. “Not anymore.”

There were so many things she wanted to say. There was too much that she needed to know about him, and too much she simply couldn’t hear yet, and she wanted to scream at him to make him understand what was going on in her head. She wanted to ask him about Fran, and his father, and why he was still following along on the crazy journey in the first place, but she knew that none of it would come out of her mouth.

She simply swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it slightly painful, and kept her eyes glued to the horizon of Archades, full of high rise towers and large, open balconies, and so many people who would never know what they were doing to the other countries, or what the other countries truly meant. Everyone was living in a rose-colored glass world, and she hoped, even though it was horrible, that it would all come tumbling down some day, littered around their feet like the same broken dreams she had come to know so well.

“Princess?” Balthier asked, and Ashe ignored him, willing away every hazy, complicated feeling bubbling up in her chest. When she gave him no answer, she could hear his footsteps come slightly closer to her back. “Ashe?”

The use of her name made her turn her head, but not before she had cleared her face of all expressions, vowing to keep her emotions under much tighter control around the clever, shrewd sky pirate standing before her.

“How is it that you are so good at getting under other people’s skin?” she asked him, stepping away from the railing and moving towards the harshly lit opening the others had disappeared into.

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about,” he said, and she was pleased to see that he had dropped the bemused look, and seemed perplexed.

“Perhaps you don’t,” she replied, and strode past him. “We should hurry if we are to reach Giruvegan before your father.”