UnShaekable (FFXII)

III) Nalbina

"They're the thieves who stole into the palace."

"Is that what the commotion last night was about?"

"They think me some common thief," Amalia whispers bitterly, hands bound before her in thick metal cuffs. Balthier backs up, ducking his head a bit lower.

"Better than a common assassin."

"Aren't the punishments about the same these days?" I counter raising an eyebrow.

Before either can reply, a soldier pushes Amalia forward. Bold as ever, she turns to face the gathering crowds of the streets of Rabanstre's Lowtown.

"These people have done nothing. Release them," she demands.

"What are you doing?" Vaan hisses.

"Don't interrupt me," she snaps. "I'm thinking."

The guard pushes her forward, separating us from her. Oh well. It was a good run, I suppose. I look around at the crowds and the people who've been dragged into this with me. What a mess. It was an in-and-out mission, a simply thievery all ruined by a commoner and a pair of sky pirates. Dern would be split between laughter and disappointment. That is, if Vayne wasn't right there, arms crossed tightly as he watches his prisoners, proud. He merely eyes Vaan one more time before walking away, head held high.

"Wait!"

"Where do you think you're going?" a guard demands. I turn to see him restraining a girl with blonde pigtails, her face clearly showing desperation as she fights to get past.

"He didn't know what he was doing! You have to let him go! You have to!"

"Penelo!" Vaan calls. He raises a half smile, lifting his bindings higher. "Sorry. That dinner'll have to wait."

"I told you!" she snaps, hurt. I raise an eyebrow, catching Balthier's eye.

"That's enough!" a soldier by us snaps, knocking a metal brace against the boy's head sharply.

"Hey!" I glower at the man, doing my best to pull the thief to his feet. These Archadians and their ingrained power complexes... Gods above I hate them. All of them.

"Leave him alone!" Penelo cries, pushing the guards off her and running toward Vaan. Quickly, Balthier steps into her path, offering a gentle smile and a handkerchief.

"Hold onto this, would you?" he asks smoothly. "Just until I bring Vaan back." I roll my eyes. This man and his self-identifying heroics.

"You, over here!" a soldier demands, glowering at Balthier. The sky pirate sighs, taking his time.

"Edgy, aren't we," he mutters. The soldier raises his arm to strike at Balthier this time, but I block the blow with my enormous cuffs, eyes narrowed and a sneer pulled across my lips.

"Down, boy."

"Yeah, if you're so tough, pick on someone who can fight back," Vaan retorts.

"Dalmascan scum," he hisses, beating my wrists away and striking my head with the butt of his sword. I stifle a laugh as I stumble back into Vaan, vision fading and a trickle of blood dripping down the side of my face. Someone's getting punished later. The last thing I feel is Vaan pushing my upright roughly.

~|~|~|~|~

The sun is hot through the window high above me, sand trickling from higher up every so often. Nothing stirs otherwise. The cell is stuffy, silent, too warm. Balthier sits across the way from me, twisting his rings on his fingers or studying the room with dim green eyes. The smell is horrendous. Rotting corpses, if I had to guess. That, and the prisoners using every corner of this place as a toilet for years. However, it's not all that unfamiliar. A tale for another time, I suppose.