Title: Though Hell Should Bar the Way
Characters/Pairings: Fran, Balthier, Ba'Gamnan and gang
Rating/Warnings: T, death
Other: First to correctly guess my inspiration gets a free fic request! If you're familiar with it, it should be fairly easy to guess.
Viera begin in the Wood and end where they choose.
When Fran chose her path, she knew she would have regrets. When she chose Balthier, she knew there would be danger. She knew from that moment on that someone would always be chasing her, that for any she met who were friendly there would be an equal number who wanted her dead. She knew there would be those like Ba'Gamnan, who would relentlessly pursue until either the predator or the prey was entirely defeated. She never expected there would be a day when Ba'Gamnan came this close to victory.
It had shown an unusual amount of foresight on the part of the obnoxious Bangaa to find such an opportune time. The sky had already begun to dim when Balthier had left for the market. The moogles too were gone; she had given them the night off, probably to gorge themselves on Madhu and come stumbling back some time when the moon was much higher in the sky. As for her, she had stayed behind to run a routine check of the Strahl and left herself far too unaware.
So now she sat by the window of the Strahl, tied solidly to a chair with a gag cutting off any meaningful sound she could make. She hadn't gone down without a fight of course. She had in fact had a chance to inflict a few wounds before being subdued, but in the end four Bangaa was easily enough to overwhelm one Viera. As if it wasn't enough to bind her, they had seen fit to add in an old gun of Balthier's that they had found, pointed into her back. There she sat, unable to move, speak, or do anything of much significance, watching along with the group of unsettling Bangaa for her partner's approach.
If only she could alert him, to let him know something was amiss. If he did not know to run, he would at least use caution. Even just that, she thought, might be enough to save him. Balthier was a clever man, much more so than these damnable lizards. How else had the two of them evaded their grasp so many times in the past? But here now her luck at least seemed to have run thin.
There she struggled, watched by serpentine eyes and surrounded by uncaring sniggers. The binds were tight and strong; with all her strength there was little chance she could break out. If only, if only. A quiet sigh permeated the cloth wrapping her mouth.
But wait! A touch—in the process of fidgeting the long nail of one finger had grazed metal. It wasn't much, but it would only take a little bit more for her to get a grasp of the weapon bound with her. If the lizards noticed anything, it was not her finger on the trigger, but the smile that appeared ever so faint on her lips. She could no longer win, but she could deprive Ba'Gamnan of his victory.
It was then that her eyes caught a hint of motion in the distance, a first glimpse of her partner's return. He wouldn't be able to see her, not in the darkness, not until it was too late, but the moonlight afforded her a better view. As he approached he was as she expected; too confident, too careless, unable to sense the danger lurking within his sanctuary. She knew that without some warning he would soon be caught unaware.
There was no more time from struggle. No time to break free. No time to shift the gun to a different course. Now was the time for action. She narrowed her eyes and bared teeth to the lizards in a wicked smile.
Her choices were never wrong. The had led her in ways different from her kind. They had tied her to one whose life she would place above her own. They had led her to where she now sat, but they had never been wrong. Though, Viera live long in the end she found herself running out of time. But her foe had underestimated her yet again. Within the grip of the careful ties, one finger had found its way to an opportunity. Perhaps, she thought, this end was fitting.
The first thing she ever heard was the voice of the Wood softly whispering to her that she now lived; the last was the sound of a gunshot, a curse, and a snicker. She had no regrets.