The War Privateer

Disclaimer: All known and recognisable characters belong to Square Enix all unknown and unrecognisable characters are mine.

A/N: This is in fact two stories in one. The tale of Ffamran's escape from Archades and the story of Balthier and Fran's exploits during the Archadia-Dalmasca war. Certain characters and locations, Einar/ Remus/ Ruthy and the town of Veridree are my own creations and feature in my other story 'The Stuff Legends are made of'. You do not have to read that one to understand this one however.

Enjoy.

Prologue: A friendly drink with an old acquaintance

He fervently did not wish to be here.

Would not be here at all if it wasn't for Raz, that bloody diminutive Bangaa and poor excuse for a pirate, who knew far more than he should and wasn't afraid to speak on it.

But, Balthier was forced to concede, it wasn't just the knowing looks and thinly veiled insinuations made while Fran was in ear shot that forced him to come here to this filthy hovel of a tavern, more a lean-to shack with moonshine, in the middle of the Highwaste.

It was his conscience, the barely perceptible but persistent voice of his past. Goading him, pushing him, demanding he meet with this man despite the fact that any debt owing was most definitely on the other man's side.

Balthier had committed a veritable cornucopia of crimes since assuming his 'pirate' name, some great, some small, yet it was not any of them that forced him to this place, waiting impatiently for this one particular ghost of his past.

It was the crime he committed under his own name, the only crime he considered truly his, the crime nobody really knows about, that motivates this guilty action; Ffamran's crime.

Ffamran's guilt drives Balthier to this place. Like a revenant rising from the grave to clutch at the last remnants of his life.

The life Balthier stole from him at the very moment of the young man's triumph. Perhaps, therefore, it is not Ffamran's guilt that drives him, but Balthier's own?

'You came then.'

Balthier looked up from the amber froth of his drink to watch the other man, tall, muscular, blonde, pull out a seat opposite him and sit down.

The man grinned at him, his hair in many unruly braids of different length, threaded with ribbons of different colour, his beard and moustache, in contrast, were neatly trimmed and styled.

'And you have not lost your capacity for stating the obvious, Hamish.'

Balthier drawled, having little inclination to feign the pretence of civility towards this man.

Hamish merely laughed; a rich braying sound that Balthier considered both inelegant and unrefined.

' Cheerful as ever Ffamran, and here I thought you'd be happy to see me.'

Balthier rankled against the use of that name, Hamish knew he no longer goes by it, and therefore used it deliberately. For this reason only Balthier refrained from giving the man the satisfaction of his discomfort and chose instead to ignore the slight.

' I am thrilled to see you beyond your wildest imaginings Hamish, now what is it you want?' He purred instead, unable to smooth out the wrinkle of irritation from his voice.

Hamish rapped his large, big knuckled hand against the splintered, unfinished surface of the table.

' The Empire plans to attack Nalbina, we can't let that happen, Ffamran.'

Balthier knew, of course, that war was on the horizon. A blind man could see it.

In fact, he had been laying some hefty wagers in the gambling dens of Ivalice in regards to the time, method and (inevitable) outcome of any military actions between either Archadia and Dalmasca or Nabradia for many weeks.

Fran found the whole thing contemptuous, that Humes should make sport and profit from war, Balthier in his darker moments had argued back that that was the very reason Humes went constantly to war.

' Oh really?' Balthier drawled. ' Who is this 'we' you refer to?'

Hamish frowned, ' Raz tells me you've cut yourself free of old ties now, Ffamran. I heard about Veridree; impressive.'

Balthier did not let his mildly indifferent expression falter, Veridree was more than two months behind him and he still woke at night in a cold sweat, fingers seeking out the whip scars across his back.

'I'm sure I have no idea to what you refer.'

Hamish made a disgusted sound, 'You bloody Archadians with your double-talk.' He muttered something in the harsh, guttural dialect of his fallen home of Landis.

'The Army makes camp here in the Highwaste, but we are all marked men and the Empire's spies are everywhere. Our communications channels are blocked.'

'Your communications channels were not worth much to begin with. You Landissians are all blunt instruments.'

Balthier shot back, the obvious irritation he felt was not natural to his carefully maintained disposition. It belonged to Ffamran.

Hamish did not rise to the insult, but merely nodded, 'Aye, that's why I called you here. Landis has a saying, fight fire with fire. We don't have the means to find out what the Empire's about, but you do.'

Balthier raised one eyebrow in disingenuous surprise, ' Do I now? How is it that I am suddenly an expert on the Imperial war machine, pray tell?'

Hamish grinned, it was not a happy grin, ' Because it takes a Judge to know a Judge and an Archadian to know an Archadian, but it takes a cunning bastard to like you to ferret out that information.'

'I am never going back to Archades.' Balthier muttered mulishly, carefully maintained facade cracking and the inner voice slipping free.

'Then you'll find some other way of getting the information I need. My men and I have the arms to do real damage to the Empire; we have contacts within Dalmasca and Nabradia also.'

'Then I fail to see how you need me.' Balthier said briskly, rising from the table.

' We heard rumour before our sources took to the hills that Draklor's researchers abound Ivalice. Draklor powers the Imperial war machine and of late her hunger for fuel grows insatiable. We hear that Draklor's elusive chief of staff has been seen rooting about the Glen of Fatulla.'

Balthier had frozen in the process of shrugging on his light weight coat over his white shirt and silvery waistcoat; he met Hamish' eyes.

' I'll want payment, you have had all the charity you shall ever get from me.'

Hamish smiled broadly, ' Wouldn't expect it any other way from a pirate. Gil is easy enough to come by, if that's all you're wanting.'

Balthier nodded, ' I'll speak to Jules for you, depending on how expensive he is I will have a price for my services when we speak next.'

He raised a speculative eyebrow, 'You and your army will be loitering about the Highwaste for a time I take it?'

Hamish ignored the verbal slight and reached across the table to finish off Balthier's forgotten pint.

' My men and I are creatures of war now Ffamran, thanks to the Empire, we will be here when war comes.'

'Very well then. Good day to you Hamish.'

Balthier nodded his head in a stiff, decidedly uncharacteristic farewell and turned to leave the dilapidated drinking den as quickly as he could while still maintaining the pretence of nonchalance.

War did not merely knock upon the doors of Dalmasca and Nabradia she would also make sport with pirates it appeared.

Balthier winced at the thought of explaining all this to Fran.