UnShaekable (FFXII)

II) Trapped Rats

The water below comes up over my ankles, soaking through my boots. The sewers reek, as expected. Perhaps, if I grew up here, I might've spent much more time playing in this underground wreckage. For now, it's merely an escape route from the cause of my life's troubles: authority. My nose crinkles upon seeing three bodies floating in the shallow water. Balthier hums, looking over their skimpy armor skeptically.

"Insurgents. Most like they thought to take advantage of a lax watch while the fete's on... to feed the good consul a length of steel for his supper." He crosses his arms, tossing a look over his shoulder. "I should think Vayne used to such hospitality."

"Clever," I mutter, earning the questioning looks of the others. "He used himself as the bait to draw them near, and then sent in the air brigade. He looks innocent through the entire ordeal."

"A fine, bloody banquet," Balthier sighs, looking over the loose white sleeves covering his arms. "Hmph. I daresay I've soiled my cuffs. If a dungeon's waiting for us at the end of the night, it had best have a change of wardrobe."

"While I appreciate your deep concerns for your appearance, I do believe we have greater issues at hand," I butt in, shooting him a smug smile. His expression is unamused, annoyed. With a "hmph" he walks past with Fran at his heels.

Hardly a moment after a squeak resonates through the open space, an arrow flies into a massive rat's side. Blood stains the water red as Fran lowers her bow, Vaan gawking shamelessly. Sighing, I pull my spear free. So that's how it'll be. Lady Luck, why have you abandoned me? Balthier raises an eyebrow, looking me over.

"What?" I demand, resting my free hand on my hip. He shrugs.

"Despite having seen you wield it before, it seems that spear doesn't suit you."

"Well, I suppose you have yet to prove your mental capacity," I retort, watching Vaan fight a smile. Balthier only chuckles.

"With that spirit, I thought you might know how to wear a shirt properly."

Vaan bursts into laughter, pulling a dagger from a short sheathe at his hip and hurrying to kill another rat. Balthier fires his gun with one hand, effectively ending the life of a second rodent. I frown, looking down at the loose white shirt covering my body. Light twine laced across the top of a plunging neckline holds it together; he can't mean that, unless he's a prude that's offended by skin. I know that can't be true, looking at Fran. With that attitude, I doubt he sees much more than that viera anyway. I scoff. Says the man with a rainbow across his knuckles.

The sewers are endless tunnels that crawl on forever, smelling of stagnant water and rot. Rats and steelings alike flutter above and below. I skewer a rodent before swatting a flapping annoyance out of my face, watching the steeling collapse to the ground. Easy. Everyone's guard is up, and it's not because of the monsters. I don't care about the thief; these pirates have me on edge. Balthier begins to hum a tune as he strolls, one I vaguely remember but can't place. Fran picks off another rat easily, turning her nose upward.

"A strange scent in the air," she comments. Balthier merely raises an eyebrow, resting his hefty gun on his shoulder

"Today's my lucky day!" Vaan calls, running toward an urn to our left that I would have missed otherwise. The patterns of both merge in a way that leaves me cross-eyed.

The boy throws the deep blue lid into the murky water and digs into the deep pot. I stand a good foot away from Balthier and Fran, glancing at them warily before watching the thief pull a jingling pouch free with a grin. He turns back, grinning proudly at the three of us before running past to lead the way. He slips the pouch into a fold of his sash taking his knives back out to fight a shrieking steeling.