Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

After a bout of writer's block and problems in my private life, I'm glad to say I have finally begun to make progress on the backlog of story updates I need to work on. Enjoy please and thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed and supported me, even when I haven't updated.

“Damn girl!” Balthier swore, having lost Rayya when she suddenly picked up her pace and shot to the rooftops in a surprising display of agility. He was now left wandering the back alleys of Basiret, completely lost and receiving some strange looks.

“Problem?” a voice asked pleasantly, and the pirate whirled around to see Devin smirking down at him, perched on an outcropping above a door.

“Not at all,” he replied, gun in hand.

“Really. It seems to me that she ditched you and now you’re hopelessly lost in this maze,” the man chuckled, dropping to the ground lightly and approaching Balthier. “No hard feelings, but you’d never be able to keep up with Rayya once she sets her mind to it.”

“And you can?” Balthier asked calmly, sensing a challenge in the man’s words. The other fighter shrugged and grinned again, no weapons visible this time.

“Maybe,” he shot back. “So, want to know where she is?”

“As long as she’s not in a body bag somewhere, it really isn’t my concern,” the other man informed him coolly. “She’s on personal business.”

“That you’re supposed to be in on. Finding out why Lareesh decided to help those aristocrats assassinate the queen, why he told them to find Rayya when he knew she’d never do it – fun stuff like that.” Devin waved his hand dismissively at Balthier’s suspicious gaze. “Of course we know. We’re not stupid. C’mon, I’ll take you to her.”

“And how do you know where she is?” the pirate demanded grimly.

“When you’ve spent as much time with her as I have, you learn a few things,” the assassin replied over his shoulder, already moving down the alley. “Besides, she’s with Lareesh. Of course. Now, are you coming or not?”

Balthier set his teeth, briefly tempted to shoot the man in the back and continue over his dead body. Common sense shoved the idea away in a second, forcing him to follow the man in a sullen silence.

“Well, I didn’t expect this,” Devin remarked, pausing in front of a doorway on the corner of a street. Apparently, he sensed something that was eluding Balthier and took a step back. “Here it is, have fun,” he said, waving before disappearing even quicker than Rayya had.

“What the hell is going on in this town?” Balthier muttered, striding towards the door and knocking. When he was met with silence, he shrugged and kicked the door in after finding it locked. He managed to take a step forward before freezing.

Rayya stood over the body of a man, which was laying facedown in a pool of his own blood. Her scimitars dripped red onto the floor and she looked down impassively at the body. Glancing up to see Balthier, she moved slightly.

He took a step back involuntarily – the look on her face was not one he wanted to anger at the moment, but she only moved to a curtain and began wiping her blades clean on it.

“He was a traitor to Rabanastre,” she said impassively, speaking after the silence hung thick in the air for several minutes. “Mahavir and the others wished to assassinate Al-Cid Margrace and wrest control from the House of Margrace and combine Rozarria and Dalmasca to form an empire to challenge Archadia.”

“Well,” Balthier remarked, at a temporary loss for words.

“He confessed it all, thinking I’d enjoy having something to fight for against Archadia, my ‘hated homeland’,” she continued, sarcasm evident in her last words. “He forgot one important thing.”

“And may I ask what that is?” he asked carefully, sensing she was on the edge between a killer and a warrior.

“That I have no homeland anymore. Least of all Archadia. And I hardly wish to see Ivalice plunged into such a horrible war. Raising me to defend Rozarria against anything, he could hardly expect me to turn so easily against it.”

“I think we should leave soon,” Balthier ventured to say, but she turned to look at him blankly.

“There’s no rush. I still need to search for any documents regarding this plot. No one will disturb this house – we are well-known in this area,” she informed him, scimitars safely hidden away in their sheaths for the moment.

Balthier stepped over the body in disgust as he reached across to a shelf on the wall behind it. Almost an hour had passed and the blood had stained into the wooden floor, the body beginning to stink a bit. Rayya didn’t appear to notice any of it, absorbed in going through the dead man’s belongings.

The fact that the dead man was her mentor, a father figure and one she had apparently killed in cold blood, bothered Balthier a great deal. He was unsure how sane she was at the moment and the fact that her comrades, who seemingly knew what had transpired, were staying far away didn’t help any.

“Found anything?” she asked, the first words she had spoken in a while. He looked up in surprise, but shook his head.

“Unfortunately, nothing.”

“I can’t believe he’d think to burn everything when he didn’t know I was coming. Unless…Devin tipped him off!” she realized, stiffening. “He brought them all into it!”

“Well, you are mercenaries,” he reminded her lightly, flinching as she turned on him.

“For Rozarria! Certainly not for those men to bring war!” she snapped. She abruptly fell silent and her gaze rested on the door, almost expectantly. Balthier turned as well, stepping back from the body quickly as Rozarrian soldiers burst in, weapons drawn.

“Is this the body of Lareesh?” one demanded, and Rayya nodded silently. “Are you the one who slew him?” he continued, receiving another nod.

“Rayya, at your service,” she replied with an elegant bow. Balthier noticed how none of the mercenaries seemed to have last names, but the thought was banished as she was cuffed and her scimitars taken.

“You are under arrest for the murder of Lareesh by the order of Al-Cid Margrace. We are to bring you to him immediately,” the captain informed her, something which seemed to amuse her to no end.

“Um, anyone mind if I join?” Balthier asked, finally bringing attention to himself.

“And who are you?” the captain demanded, in no mood for interruptions.

“Balthier,” he announced, amused by the thought that he had no surname either.

“Were you involved in this?” the captain asked incredulously, having heard of the sky pirate and finding it hard to believe.

“Insofar as finding him, yes.”

“All right, you can come with us. Hurry it up, I haven’t got all day,” the captain ordered, two soldiers dragging Rayya between them, who didn’t seem to mind in the least.

Balthier took in the sights as they were dragged into Al-Cid’s villa on the coast, having been thrown into the back of a small aircraft and denied any outside images for several hours. Rayya had remained eerily silent, never a good thing in his opinion.

“All right, up you go,” the captain ordered, and the two were unceremoniously pulled to their feet without any notice. Moving as quickly as they could through the main doors, several long passages and turns found them in front of Al-Cid himself, who almost looked amused.

“So, you killed Lareesh,” he remarked, handing his sunglasses to a secretary in order to view her better. Noticing Balthier, he barked a laugh. “You pirate! What on earth are you doing here?” he demanded with another chuckle.

“Sort of found myself in it,” the pirate replied easily, finding himself released from the grips of the soldiers. Rayya was still bound, and looked up as Al-Cid moved back to her.

“Well?”

“Of course I killed him,” she replied calmly. “He was a traitor to yourself, Rozarria, and our own organization.”

“Who have all apparently decided to join him in his aiding of Mahavir and the others,” the man remarked in amusement. Seeing her shift, he nodded. “Of course I know, you think I’m that ignoring to be unaware of such a plot as that? Come now, you’ve spared me some trouble and caused a great deal in return.”

“Explain yourself,” she shot back snidely. The Marquis sighed deeply, looking disappointed.

“With Lareesh dead, I can’t follow the movements of your organization properly. Besides, he was my informant on Mahavir and those other power-mad fools. Now I little connection to anything concerning them. Years of planning ruined in a moment,” he informed her coolly. “In killing Lareesh, you’ve acted as a greater traitor than he ever was.”

Rayya’s jaw dropped in shock at this statement and Balthier quickly stepped forward, hoping to avoid the fate that would await her if she was pronounced a traitor.

“We were hardly aware of such complications,” he reprimanded the other man. “All we knew was that Lareesh had sent Rayya to Mahavir to act as an assassin, and in order to be spared imprisonment and execution in Dalmasca she agreed to return here and find out what was going on.”

“And now she’s going to face imprisonment and execution in Rozarria unless I can find some use for her,” Al-Cid muttered, beginning to pace restlessly. “I understand the reasoning behind your actions, but I cannot simply pardon them,” he explained, turning to the woman with chin in hand.

“Of course,” she replied, her voice ice.

“Perhaps she could serve as your contact?” Balthier suggested. “Let Mahavir think Lareesh was killed by one of his own. Let him know it was Rayya – she killed him because Lareesh betrayed the organization, which now serves Mahavir. Therefore, she acted on his behalf and has proven her loyalty.”

“Excuse me!” she protested, taking a step forward before being restrained. “I do not wish to act as a spy of any kind! I’d rather be thrown in prison!”

“Even if it will save not only Rozarria, but the majority of Ivalice as well, from a devastating war?” Al-Cid inquired curiously, the idea obviously presenting opportunities in his mind. “Wonderful thinking, Balthier. I knew you wouldn’t grow stupider with age.”

“The same could be said of you, Your Grace,” the pirate replied dryly, bowing mockingly with a wink towards Rayya. She only hissed in his direction, clearly displeased at the direction the conversation was going. "So, is it a deal? She's your spy, and I'll even go watch her. Everyone knows I can be bought, after all," he remarked.

Al-Cid eyed the other man for a moment with an appraising stare, considering the options before him. Unfortunately, Balthier's suggestion was the best one at the moment. "All right," he decided a moment later. "She will be under your parole, Balthier, so I'll have your head if something goes wrong."

"You just want to see me again," Balthier replied easily, gesturing at the guards. "Well, didn’t you hear? Get the chains off, she's under my custody now," he ordered firmly. Stunned, the two men exchanged nervous glances until a subtle cough from their leader brought them to their senses. Several seconds later Rayya found herself a free woman - technically.

"And I don't get a say in any of this?" she demanded, visibly drooping when Al-Cid shook his head. "So what are my orders?" she asked grouchily, crossing her arms over her breasts grimly. He grinned at this, taking a seat and eyeing her.

"Contact Mahavir. I have information I'd like him to know about," Al-Cid ordered, handing her several sheets of paper. She skimmed through them without bothering to ask for permission and her eyes widened.

"Are these what I think they are?"

"Yes. Schedules, dates - designed to make me completely defenseless. And I know anything about that man, he won't believe a word of it. Which is amusing, since it will all be true," the man continued, obviously pleased with himself. "He'll pick a date where I'm heavily guarded, possibly one of these," he said, leaning over to point out several dates which national holidays occurred and the Marquis made public appearances.

"That sounds like him. Nice and public, to make a statement," Balthier said in distaste, ignoring the pointed coughing that now came from Rayya, who folded the papers and put them into her pouch, which had been returned to her in the flurry of unbinding her.

"I'll be expecting attacks on any of these dates. I need the man to make a public move, something concrete that I can move against him. Having Dalmasca behind these efforts is nice, but hardly enough," Al-Cid told them. "He poses a threat to my empire as well and I have plenty of time and manpower to waste on him."

"How do I contact him?" Rayya demanded.

"Ask that thief friend of yours, Devin? He was Lareesh's second-in-command, as far as the information comes to me," the Marquis informed her. "The story should prove enough to convince him to let you see Mahavir. I understand you and Lareesh were not on pleasant terms lately."

"Good point. Fine, I'll be going now. If I'm allowed," she added, sarcasm heavy as she glared at Balthier. The pirate exchanged a glance with the other man, as if to ask what could be done with women these days, before shrugging.

"All right, we may as well get going," he sighed, having hoped for some dinner and possible advance payment. It was obvious the Marquis had no intention of either, however, as he got to his feet and eyed them.

"Well, I'm glad to see that this could be resolved without further bloodshed. I'll have my secretary give you the name of my contact before you leave. Let him know when you need to speak to me," he ordered, the dismissal clear.

"I really hate you," Rayya informed him, stalking next to him as they headed down a side alley. They had found themselves once again deposited in the middle of the worst section of the city, in the hopes Devin and the gang would come to them.

"I've gotten used to the idea," he replied calmly, gun slung over his shoulder expectantly. It was a dare for anyone to try something and clearly stated that not only was the pirate not in the mood for it, he also wouldn't even try to talk the poor person out of suicide.

Rayya grumbled something before stopping and looking up, her eyes narrowed. "Heads up," she managed to whisper, before Devin and three other men dropped to the ground in front of them. Straightening with ease, the lead thief strode up to them and glared at her.

"I didn't think you'd actually kill him," he informed her curtly.

"He decided to take an offer I had to make him refuse," she replied, her tone just as icy and made even Balthier wince. Devin's frown only deepened with these words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you think I didn't know we serve Mahavir?" she asked bluntly, her tone suggesting she was insulted by the thought. "I went to speak to Lareesh about it. And he informed me he was working for the Marquis against Mahavir - which I suppose you knew."

"I have to admit, you saved us the trouble of silencing him ourselves," the man admitted, relaxing a bit. "And now I suppose you've come to take over our enterprise? Why?"

"I have no alliances," Rayya said, with a smile that was all-too convincing for anyone's comfort. "And I can make a lot of money if this works, not to mention destroying Archadia. Why wouldn't I be in? Assassinating rulers is one thing - overthrowing rulers is something else entirely. Especially if I don't have to concern myself with what happens to them afterwards," she added absently.

"Enlighten me. Why do you think you can waltz in and take charge?" the man asked wryly, but Balthier knew the battle was already won. Rayya had a strange charisma when she wanted to use it and the rage she felt only made it more potent, somehow.

"Because Lareesh intended for me to take over and you know it," she said, fixing him with a frightening smile. "So, do I have to kill you as well to make my point?"

"And what point would that be?" Devin shot back.

"That I'm back."

"I am surprised they let you return," Fran remarked, meeting the two at the airship that night. Balthier shrugged, while Rayya unconsciously copied the gesture while smirking.

"Balthier does a convincing impression of a money-hungry pirate-for-hire when he wants to," she informed the Viera calmly, striding up the gangplank. "Besides, I'm in charge now. They do what do I say or they die."

"Is she serious?" the pirate asked her partner quietly, meeting with a nod.

"She's out for blood as it is and for once it isn't mine," he told her. "They've betrayed not only her, but her country, for all her talk of having no allegiance. She wants an excuse to get rid of as many as she can before it ends."

"I suppose I can sympathize. And at least you should have a break," Fran added, believing this an unexpected bonus. Balthier heartily agreed, nodding and managing a grin.

"If you don’t mind, pilot us back to the Northern Skirts to meet with Mahavir," he said. "I need a good night's sleep after today's escapade."

"He will not be there," Fran began to object, but Rayya appeared from her own doorway and shook her head.

"Yes, he will. His contempt for the governments is well-founded. They searched it once, it was empty - it's safe again. Besides, it's already spelled and equipped for them, so why go through the trouble of doing it all over again?" she pointed out, stifling a yawn. "I'm going to get some sleep, wake me up when we get there. Good night."

The partners stood staring as the door shut, then turned to stare at each for another long moment. Fran broke the silence after blinking, trying to put it nicely and failing.

"Was she nice?" she asked.

"Seems like it," Balthier replied in relief, beginning to recognize the young woman he had known underneath the layers of death and lies. "I'll get some sleep as well, Fran. Let me know if we have any problems."

"Of course. Good night," she said, remaining in the hall for another moment after Balthier retreated to his own room. Shaking her head at the strange workings of humans, she returned to the cockpit and settled herself in, setting the autopilot and getting some rest herself.