Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.

A/N: Longest writer's block ever. I'm so sorry. For those of you still with me...thank you and hope I do not disappoint. This story is no longer being beta'd, so the errors are all mine. Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-nine

Sleep. It was a notion that nagged at the mind. The gentle pulling sensation that dulled and fogged the senses was currently unwelcome. Sleep meant having your guard down. It meant you were more susceptible to overlooking the obvious: Susceptible to mistakes.

Luck had put them in a very precarious situation and she could not afford to make a mistake. So, Penelo opted for reflecting on her current predicament.

"Luck is a fickle friend. When she appears, there are always two choices; a good and a bad."

"And how, Balthier, do you not choose the bad?"

"Well, I dare say that's luck, isn't it?"

The unbidden memory mocked her, but she couldn't argue that it wasn't appropriate.

She tugged the thick woolen blanket tighter around herself and little Calia. The little Rozarrian girl still clung tightly to her even in her restless sleep. Penelo couldn't blame her.

To be kidnapped, bound, flung out of an airship and into the freezing sea, then being rescued (though Penelo used the word loosely) by a seemingly stroke of good luck by a nearby sea ship, to being flung into a rusted and musty cell in the bottom of the ship...(well, that's where she started questioning the whole rescue part)...it was just asking too much from one little girl.

Truthfully, it was asking too much of Penelo. She was grateful they had been given dry clothes and thick, clean blankets, but being locked up again wasn't making their situation seem any less dire.

The harsh sound of clunking steel jolted Penelo from her hazy thoughts and she hugged Calia tighter to her. The little girl looked up at her both sleepy and terrified. Penelo smoothed the mess of raven curls in an attempt to calm her, but fear clawed at her own insides.

A loud clanking of metal and a wicked snicker forced Penelo to look upwards at the bulking man who stood in front of their cell.

A barked shout caused the man to grimace and pull a set of keys from his waist and unlock the cell. Penelo started to pull herself and Calia further away.

"Cap'n says this be yer stop," he growled. "Grab yer lil'un."

Penelo drew a slow breath and desperately tried to think of an escape plan. She pulled herself and Calia to their feet and wrapped the little girl tightly in the blanket. Hesitantly, she followed the man up the stairs to the deck.

The sky overhead was thick with fog, but Penelo could see the outline of huge mountains in the near distance. She tried to get her bearings, but was cut short by a stout man with flaming red hair.

"This way," he said, tersely and turned to look at the thirty pair of eyes following the captives every move. "And none of ye follow. We've not met our quota and I don't suffer lay-a-bouts!"

The last was a grizzled shout and the surly man led them down off the ship and onto a rickety dock. When they reached the bottom, he pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the pendent.

Penelo's hand went to her neck immediately and her eyes widened. She hadn't realized it wasn't there.

"Worry not, m'lady," he said far more gently then she had been expecting.

He held the pendent out to her and she took it gingerly. Calia had taken to hiding behind her and the man chuckled.

"Up that way, you'll see the trail well enough once yer on it," he said as he pointed up the sloping banks. "It will lead up to the refugee camp."

Penelo nodded uncertainly and looked down at Calia.

"The fiends are few around these parts because the men are plenty."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Nae lady, just tell ol' Gabranth that Cap'n Snell did him a good turn," he said with a sly grin and then looked at her seriously. "Keep that trinket of yers out of sight. This mountain may welcome refugees, but there are some here that still bear no love for Archadians."

She nodded again and sighed.

"I can send word ahead to..."
"No," Penelo interrupted, her voice wavering with fear. She took a breath and continued as she searched the skies. "The man who kidnapped us, if he knows we're alive..."

"Say no more m'lady" he said reassuringly and added. "Ye need not worry about airships here. The mountain winds tend to blow upwards and any capt'n worth his salt won't tempt fate here."

Penelo thanked him again and watched him board his ship and sail back out to sea. She hugged Calia tighter to her and released a slow, steadying breath. They were alive, dry, and not far from civilization that would be willing to help them.

Penelo turned her head to follow the way upwards. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and furrowed her brow. Looking down at Calia, she could tell the child was still very tired and the way up wasn't going to be easy.

Vasren paced the short length of his senate quarters. Though the palace was a wealth of comfort, he was growing weary of being confined and his patience was being tested.

His hired hand had never failed him before so the old man had no reason to doubt this little matter of the Dalmascan dancer would be resolved, but it had been a full day and there was still no news. It set his nerves on edge and he could almost feel the pang of his ulcer flaring up again.

His 'inquisition' was also testing his patience. He had expected to have been released almost twelve hours ago. He knew they would never find any information to tie him to Brusnile and his daughter's claims, but he had understated Larsa's willingness to see the whole matter settled quietly and quickly. It was slowly turning into an inquiry of his entire life's career as a Senator.

Vasren could not claim he had never made a mistake. The most plain had been his younger brother's complete exoneration for crimes against the Empire, but as this was family and quite some years ago, he had hoped the young Emperor would simply feel sympathetic to the situation.

Sadly, Heilrune was again causing him strife. Vasren had tried, unsuccessfully, to get the younger man into politics. It had been nothing short of a disaster. His brother was far too fond of spending capricious amounts of gil and seeking thrills of any manner and couldn't bear the constraints and etiquette necessary to become a successful politician.

The whole matter came to head when the younger man had been caught stealing a pedigreed parader from the Emperor's personal chocobo stock. Vasren knew that his thriving political career would be swiftly limited, perhaps even halted altogether, if his brother continued to run on the wrong side of the law, so he did the only thing he thought to be reasonable. He bought his brother's freedom and gave him an airship with express orders to never deal in Archadian goods of any type.

The crafty Senator knew there would be no trace of an airship to his name, and the judges he had either paid or blackmailed to exonerate his kin were all dead now, thanks to the war. Vasren had thought the matter well and settled, until now.

The white bearded man forced himself to resume his vigil of the grand city of Archadia from his chair. He steadied his breaths in an attempt to ward off any further nerves as his aged hands pressed firmly down into the supple leather. He would see this through to its end. And even if his brother had failed him, he knew with certainty the act itself was causing a wedge between the young Emperor and his most trusted Judge Magister. Gabranth was well known for his punctuality in all empirical matters and Vasren was currently waiting for the man's return to be cleared completely. A return, he had been told, that should have taken place nearly twelve hours ago.

Penelo clutched at the rough wooden pole in her hand and shoved it roughly into the rocky dirt beneath her, using it for ballast as she trudged forward and upward. Calia had a tight grip on her other hand and her short, little legs worked twice as hard to keep up. The young woman was silently admiring the child. The pair had been climbing the better part of an hour and not even a whimper had escaped the little girl's lips after Captain Snell had left them.

The auburn haired man had been truthful about the lack of fiends. Not that Penelo had doubted him, but she was reluctant to take anything on faith due to her current situation. The knotted pole had been a lucky find and was making the climb a tiny bit easier.

Penelo gave a wistful sigh and Calia looked up at her, questioningly. The blonde dancer gave a gentle smile in return.

"Just wishing this mountain were smaller," she told the girl.

Little hazel eyes just studied her curiously and it left Penelo wondering just how much Valendian the Rozarrian child actually knew.

Penelo's thoughts turned back to Heil's last remark. Someone in the empire had wanted her out of the way. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Her mind traced back to the nasty court lady. Doubt nagged her the entire time she played out each scenario in her mind as to how Mirith could have come into league with a man like Heil. The girl was too haughty and pampered.

She racked her brain again as the haunting taunt played over and over in her mind. She was a burden on the Judge Magister. Who would think that and why? It was a thought that plagued her all the way to the refugee camp.

Though the last time she had set foot here had been under some pretty harsh conditions, the camp itself didn't seem to change much. People were huddled near campfires for warmth and though some were friendly and nodded a polite hello, most were far more interested in either not being noticed or just ignoring everyone else altogether. Penelo could hardly blame them though. Mt. Bur Omicace was a place people flocked to when they had no home left to return.

The winds were blowing, but the chill wasn't as severe given that it was still in the summer months. It was a small grace that helped keep Penelo certain that Calia would remain warm. The child remained tightly fixed to her side and Penelo did her best to make them both seem nothing more than the typical refugees that flooded in on a weekly basis as they made their way up to the temple.

Penelo had a plan. It might not have been the greatest of plans, but it was all she had at the moment and with no one but a frightened little girl at her side, well something was better than nothing. She'd get them both to the temple and she'd beg for help to get Calia back home and her…well, she wasn't sure where she should head yet.

She had her place in Rabanastre, but it wasn't really her home. She'd actually spent far more time away from it than she did there to ever actually call it home. She doubted that Rozarria would welcome her back knowing she was the reason little Calia was kidnapped, so that was out of the question. Then there was Archadia, but someone was trying very hard to make sure she'd never go back there.

Penelo frowned. She had to go back to Archadia…even if someone was trying to kill her. Larsa and Basch both needed to know that something was going on. She might not be as politically savvy as some of those senators, but every gut instinct she possessed was screaming that if she didn't get to Archadia, quickly, something very bad was going to happen.