(Insert standard disclaimer here)
Please be gentle, it's my first time. I hope everyone enjoys it.
Chapter 1: White Knight.
Another year passed, another year away from her, another year of emptiness. Basch sat at his desk, staring at the calendar, three years since they defeated Vayne and nearly two since Mydia's demise. Achadia and Dalmasca moved in different circles now, which meant his reasons to visit his former home had to be personal.
Larsa had his hands full, working with the senate to organize the referendum for Balfonheim to become an independent province. A promise he made to Rikken as payment for something that Basch was not privy to; it was best not to pry into the Emperor's business at times, as it was almost certainly underhanded in some way, but if it were detrimental to Archadia in anyway, Judge Gabranth would learn of it immediately.
The mountains of paperwork never went down; was Archadia that bad a place that some people had to try blow up a piece of it? Or kill a very popular Emperor? Basch liked the cases that dealt with less deadly outcomes, counterfeit currency or some insider trading in a company. He liked dealing with people's greed, it made them careless and ultimately stupid; Basch loved a good laugh at their expense.
With a heavy sigh, he moved onto the next case, another assassination plot on Larsa, uncovered in Dalmasca by some operatives he personally chose. "Oh a bomb," he uttered sarcastically, "Where's the originality? Where is the imagination? Amateurs!"
The two agents standing, waiting for their assignments, chuckled at the commentary; Gabranth always had a dark humour about his work.
"Raid, Tora," He addressed them, handing the assignment to Raid, "Bring the suspects back to me personally for interrogation; under no circumstances are they to be harmed. Your flight leaves in an hour, I suggest you hurry."
The men salute him and leave quickly the next two stepped up, another assassination plot.
"You two will rendezvous with Al-cid in Bhujerba, a terrorist group based in Rozzaria are plotting to Blow up the Emperor," He explained, yawing from fatigue, "You will be working with Rozzarian intelligence on this one; I expect you to give them your full cooperation."
"Yes Sir!" They saluted and left.
The last agents stood to approach the desk, the last mission for the week. Basch read the details, a local terrorist group plotting to blow the senate. "Maybe we should let them?" Giggled a handsome teen; he leaned over the desk, trying to spy more details.
"My Lord!" Basch stood to attention, "I did not notice you enter!" The two remaining agents found this hysterical, their shoulders jumping from the hilarity of the situation and failing miserably to stifle the laughing.
"I can see that, Gabranth," The boy smirked, standing to imitate the two Judges by his side, "I have some wonderful news!"
"Yes My Lord," Basch acknowledged, "My I please finish this briefing before we discuss more social events?"
"Of cause," The Emperor smiled, clearly excited about the news he had.
"Val, Titan; there is another bomb plot on the senate; a local group," He looked at Larsa, who was still smirking, "I would advise you do your best on this one; regardless what his lordship says."
The two men repeated what the others had done, salute and leave.
Larsa watched the agents leave, "I hope that mission fails," he jokingly said.
"Did you not see when the attack was to happen?" Basch asked as he stood up to move towards the window behind his desk, "It was for your address on the war widows' pension."
"What? I didn't see that!" The boy panicked.
Basch grinned, "I decided not to put extra pressure on them," He leaned against the window frame, looking out over the city; it was a beautiful spring day.
"Anyway, Gabranth," he tried to steady himself, "I have an invitation to a state dinner with other officials of Ivalice ... in Dalmasca." Larsa watched for any sign of emotion from his protector.
"Dalmasca?" He asked in a half fascinated way, "Then the invitation if from Queen Ashelia?"
"Yes and no, her council officially wrote it, but I would expect that you will accompany me?"
"It is my duty, My Lord," Basch turned and bowed.
"Oh good," He smiled again, "I have asked Zargabaath to fill in for you, we leave tonight!" With that, Larsa left to 'pack' for the trip.
Basch allowed a brief smile, too long has it been since he walked the halls of the Palace of Rabanastre. He sighed and left for his quarters.
His room was always dark, he never bothered to open the curtains as he was always up before dawn and home after dark, but today was an exception. He opened the curtain to the public gardens far below, a place where young lovers would meet and steal kisses from one another. He smiled fondly down to a young man holding a bouquet of red blooms, checking his watch anxiously. He turned back to his room, its bare walls, the solitary writing desk and the bed that he never has time to make in the mornings.
He kneeled down; reaching for his duffle bag under his bed, inside he had some pre-packed essentials, such as underwear, toiletries and some nightwear. He opened his wardrobe for some more casual clothing to pack and boots. He caught a shiny object out of the corner of his eye; a bottle of cologne the Emperor had given him for his 39th birthday; one of those gimmicky pheromone fragrances to attract the opposite sex; subtlety is one trait Larsa is not to proficient at. Basch packed it anyway; it could not hurt.
Basch laughed to himself, walking to the wardrobe for his dress uniform. The black uniform with gold braiding was new to the Magistry, Larsa insisted on a new design as the previous black with red braiding lost favour after Vayne's reign. He carefully placed it in its travel bag and packed his dress boots in their carry case. He was packed with several hours to wait until they leave.
He changed his sheets and set them aside for the cleaners to handle, that only took up half an hour, but his thoughts shifted to his family, a blend of his brother's children and his daughter with his late wife. He had them housed in his family home backing in the former Republic of Landis. He was fortunate that his brother and his wife had planned to retire there, as it had been saved from demolition and restored to its former glory, although, he wished that Noah's wife had not fallen into depression upon learning of her husband's death and taken her own life. However, his Aunty Ingra, at the wise age of sixty, cared for them full time.
His thoughts drifted to Ashelia, how would she react if she knew of my family? He wondered. Noah's children knew that Basch was not their father, but they called him that anyway, they also called his daughter Kestra their sister. He missed them dearly, so he decided to write to them, let them know of his mission to Dalmasca and meeting the Queen again. They loved the stories he told of his adventures with Queen Ashelia, Ulrike, the older of Noah's twin daughters would ask if he would marry the Queen.
"I wish I could," he thought aloud, her image flooding his mind, her smile, and their stolen intimate moments together. He knew it would happen again, Queen Ashelia never hid the fact she was in love with him, nor would Basch deny her desires, for he felt them too.
He picked up his pen, retrieved a clean piece of parchment, and began to write to his family.
Dearest Family,
I regret to inform you that I will be unable to see you this week end, however the tales I will have for you will more than make up to our time apart, for I have been invited to visit Queen Ashelia of Dalmasca for an official meeting of nations at her Majesty's pleasure.
The reason for the meeting, I do not know, but I will be sure to ask her once again to visit you, I know how much you wish to meet her and I am sure she will be delighted to do so. Nevertheless, her schedule may be full with official business with many countries around Ivalice so I hope you will not be disappointed if she cannot make it yet.
Be good to your Aunty Ingra and help her with the many chores the estate has, I know that it is soon to be breeding season for the Chocobos so make sure the hatchery is ready for the eggs, Ulrike, Valdar, I'm looking to you to take charge of that. Do not forget the fresh hay for the nests and keep the fires going.
B.J. I don't want to hear that you have been stealing again, I will come home and personally punish you if I hear anything of the kind, I know we're wealthy, but we won't be if you keep your light fingered ways, your health is also important so eat your vegetables!
Kestra, please don't give up your lute lessons, your mother had a talent for the instrument and you do too. It breaks my heart that you would stop learning it just because the other kids at school do not like it. Know that you play better than the gods themselves do. I hope that one day you will play for her Majesty Queen Ashelia, who, by the way, does not have the skill you have.
Aunty Ingra, I will try to make it the following weekend, I will try to find a nice broach for you in Rabanastre or something along those lines. I promise to behave myself Aunty; I know it is hard for you to think of me as a mature adult, but I assure you, I am.
I love you all and will try to see you as soon as possible,
Daddy.
He leaned back in his chair; the light had begun to fade outside the window. He folded the letter and placed it lovingly into an envelope.
Basch rose from his desk, stretching his back. He walked over to the window again; the gardens were now lit with warm amber lights. He spied the young man from earlier; he was in the arms of a woman who looked many years older than he did. They were kissing passionately until, presumably, the woman's husband arrived and the two men began to quarrel.
A knocking at the door alerted him that he would be leaving soon. "Gabranth?" Came Larsa's voice, muffled by the thick hardwood barrier. Basch opened the door; the boy was almost a man now, looked eye to eye with the Judge. "I do hope you are ready, Judge Magister," he jovially smiled, "I long for one of those Dalmascan massages."
"One wonders if it is the massage you long for or the masseuse," Basch knew of Larsa's crush on Penelo, He had seen the infatuation's birth outside the Lhusu Mines in Bhujerba; it had almost cost them their mission. That unmistakable glint in the youngster's eyes at the moment he first laid eyes on her; it was quite sweet really and just like so many of the theatre productions Basch had seen over the years. He did not know if Penelo shared the romantic feelings with the young Emperor, with her five years older than him, the chances were slim at best.
Although, Penelo had, for a moment at least, caught the attention of Basch Fon Ronsenburg, but quickly dismissed it. She was immature in many ways, her playful nature, which was frequently displayed with her childhood friend Vaan, told him that she was but a child thrown into the upheaval of Vayne's plans for world domination. However, her skills for magicks are second to none, she saved his life on more than one occasion and he would bet all seventy sandalwood chops he had that she could beat all the Imperial mages.
"Please," He scoffed, "The Emperor of Archadia in love with a commoner? Even if it is Penelo ..." Larsa's voice betrayed him. Basch could not help but smile.
"She is pretty, My Lord," Basch said off handed, picking up the letter for his family, "I just need to post this before we leave."
"She is Beautiful, Gabranth!" the teen exclaimed, turning to face Basch.
"As you say, My Lord," He smirked, pressing the button by his desk to summon one of the Palace workers to his quarters. "Larsa, there is nothing wrong with falling in love with someone beneath your station; we are, at the end of the day, Humes. Without the dress and ceremonial partitions of our world, we are children of Ivalice, all with one heart to give."
"In the real world, Gabranth," Larsa added, "The people would not accept such a blatant disregard for tradition. Diplomacy between nations would crumble if someone, such as I, were to marry a commoner."
"A couple of Ancestors of mine were bound by the same problem, nay, they married not, but that did not stop them from confessing their love for one another, without love, I would not be here."
"How long until we get there?" Vaan asked as they boarded the Strahl.
"Not until tomorrow afternoon," Balthier responded, "The Bahamut is almost upon Rabanastre."
"That and the united resistance and Rozzarian fleet are also close to the Bahamut," Basch added, "We must get there before that fleet does or the resulting battle could destroy Rabanastre."
The motley crew of freedom fighters settled in to the seats of the cockpit. "At least it's almost over," Penelo sighed, relaxing into her chair. "Not that it hasn't been fun," she added, closing her eyes.
"May be we should run away after we defeat Vayne," Ashe said, with a hint of sarcasm, "living like the hunters on the phone coast."
"Nay, My Lady," Basch objected, not catching the subtle cynical overtone of her Majesty's voice. "You are needed by the people of Dalmasca."
Basch knew she was joking the instant her face split into a smile, "Oh Basch," she playfully chided, her grin persisting, "What am I to do with you?"
The Knight lost his normal stoic nature, joining her mirth with a smirk and silent chuckle.
"Everyone ready?" Fran asked, looking directly at Basch, whom nodded his reply.
As Basch looked back to Ashe, she stared out the window at the setting sun in the west, "I'm sorry that we had to fight your brother," she said without warning.
"He wanted to kill you, Ashe," He explained, "And don't forget the other things he's done."
"I know, but he seamed, I don't know, distressed? Angry? He was defiantly distracted," She said, leaning in, "I wander if he survived."
"Would it matter if he did?"
Ashe look up to him, the confusion in her eyes said it all, she did not want Gabranth dead. Yes, she was hurt from her father's assassination and framing his own brother to take the fall, but she was not malicious at heart. It was Vayne's plan to do those horrible things and if Gabranth were anything like his brother, he would have only followed those orders out of loyalty to Archadia and a lot of persuasion from his superiors.
"I don't wish him dead, Basch, but he is troubled by something. Judge Gabranth is feared and respected all over Ivalice, he's famous for his fair judgement for criminals and noble stature, but when we battled, I saw little of that."
"You are not just saying that to make me feel better are you?"
Ashe laid her hand on his, "Basch, you might have just lost your last living relative, and contrary to what others might think of me for saying this, I believe he must be or was a good man," Ashe lowered her voice to a whisper. "My father was an old man, he was dying from a disease and would have died anyway, in a way, your brother saved him the agony of a slow death and for that, I should be grateful."
"I had no idea his Majesty was ill!" Basch exclaimed, shocked by the revelation.
"He had been ill for most of my life," Ashe explained, "Malger told me it was a broken heart from when my mother died, but the court physician told me it was a blood poisoning of some kind. I was married at seventeen because I wanted him to see me happy and cared for, because he would not see the New Year."
He could see Ashe was holding back, something in her mind begged to be released. "Ashe," Basch called, "what is it?"
"Perhaps we should finish this discussion in my quarters; I don't think it would be prudent for the others to witness their Princess loosing control of her senses."
"As you wish," he bowed before helping her from her seat, "My Lady."
Ashe walked swiftly down the short corridor to her designated room, Basch followed like an obedient dog, not saying a word until they were safely in her quarters.
"Basch?" Ashe called, turning slowly to face him, "Are you scared?"
"Of the Battle with Vayne?"
"No, I mean of failing," she held his eyes, "Of missing out on a happy ending, of dying without knowing if your heart's desire ever felt the same way."
"I don't understand," he frowned in confusion as though it would make Ashe's statement clear.
"Basch," she stepped closer to him, clasping his hands, "Ever since I was a little girl, I felt something for you," her cheeks flushed a deep crimson and shied away briefly, "you were always there, every night in the training yard, sparring with other Knights of the Order. I did not know who you were at first, only the blond Knight from somewhere else. I heard my father talk of a Lieutenant Basch with so much pride that one could easily have been mistaken for believing you his son, but I had no idea it was you he spoke of." She placed her hand on his heart, "you were assigned to my personal Guard on my insistence, Father and I had many heated discussions when finally he conceded defeat and granted my request. Meeting you up close solidified my feelings for 'the blond Knight' and I found myself captivated by a pair of steel grey eyes and a mane of solar rays. I knew it then and I know it now…I love you, Basch."
His heart raced, she loved him …him! Since the day of her sixteenth birthday, when he started his new assignment as one of her protectors, she was so mature for her age, more beautiful than new snow on a winter's morn in Landis and those eyes that seem to sparkle every time he looked at her.
He tilted her head up, his eyes studying her expression. With the faintest of smiles, he kissed her, softly, gently as though she were made of glass, but gentle tender kissed gave way to a more passionate and lustful embrace. And as he laid her on the bed, their clothing discarded, he uttered his love for her as he worshiped her body with all his being.
As dawn broke on the horizon, Basch held her in his arms, scared that if he let her go, she would vanish, revealing this all to be a dream.
"Basch? Are you awake?" Ashe's fatigued voice asked.
"Aye," he whispered in her ear.
"I had a wonderful dream," she announced, holding him tight, "My handsome, brave, champion made love to me in a way I never thought possible."
"Handsome?" Basch grinned, "Me? Impossible! I would suggest her Majesty get her eyes checked."
"Who said I was dreaming about you?" she coyly asked, struggling to stifle a giggle.
"What?" Basch was confused.
"Oh, I see," Ashe continued, sitting up so she may observe his physic, "You were fishing for compliments, huh? Wanting me to go on about your taught muscles, skills with every weapon, or perhaps even despite that painful looking scar, you still have the most handsome face imaginable. Well it's not going to work Sir Knight!" she continued to grin; Basch finally realised the princess's little game.
"Well then," he said as he pushed her back down on the bed, towering over her, "I suppose, her Highness does not want …" he kissed her neck, causing goose bumps to erupt over her body, "to know what …" he kissed her jaw, "I had planned for her …" he kissed her lips, slowly, "this evening."
"If we make it," Ashe added, seriously.
There was another knock at the door, "Judge Magister?" a man called from behind the door.
"Enter," Basch replied, breaking out of his momentary recall of the day they defeated Vayne. The man entered, dressed like all the other members of staff in the Imperial Palace, a modest, yet elegant uniform of midnight blue with the Solidor crest embroidered on his back. He gave a curt bow before the Emperor and the Judge. "I have a letter to deliver: top priority, do you understand?" Basch handed him the envelope.
"Yes Sir," the man said, standing to full attention; clutching the letter to his chest and left immediately.
"Romantic notion but it won't change anything," the young Emperor sighed, "I have no idea if she feels the same way."
Basch smiled at the young man, who blushed a subtle pink at the thought of his crush. "And if she does?"
"Then this tragic love story would be complete," he sighed forlorn, but straightened himself, forcing a smile to his lips, "Are you ready, Judge Magister Gabranth?"
"I am ready My Lord," He announced, placing his helm on his head and lifting his bag to his shoulder.
"Oh Gabranth!" Larsa scolded, "Give the staff means to earn a living!" A young woman entered, wearing the feminine version of the staff uniform and comfortable shoes, taking the heavy bag from the Judge, almost dropping it in the process.
"I can carry that," The Chivalrous Judge offered, "I wouldn't want you to injure yourself."
"That is most kind of you Sir," she uttered as she positioned the duffle bag on her shoulder and lifting the dress uniform and flinging it over her other shoulder, "But as you can see, I can manage quite well." She shuffled out of the room, towards the awaiting hover car out the front of the Palace.
"Your Majesty," one of the elderly council members continued, "Are you sure? I mean, I know that the more suitable gentlemen are all married off, but why Him?"
"Larsa is too young," Ashe explained to them, sitting on her ornate throne at the head of the court, "the Bhujerban men are my cousins, ergo, also not suitable." She sighed, leaning back against her throne, "You have until they arrive to give me a reason why Judge Magister Gabranth should not be my suitor, and it must be a real good one. I do, however, reserve the right to continue with this alliance without the Councils' approval, do I make my self clear?"
All twenty councillors obligingly nodded, they had no real power over their monarch, and they were for show, more advisors rather than lawmakers. The council lost its power when the late King Raminas wanted to marry beneath his station, the only daughter to the Marquis of Bhujerba, a bunch of commoners who had achieved wealth and status through business. Amalia Ondor was quite the beauty, there was no doubting that and at nineteen years junior to the king, there were many reasons why the union should not have happened. But Raminas loved her, and when he said, he would move heaven and earth for them to be together, he did it, holding a referendum to the people of Dalmasca to give him the power to veto any decision the council would make. They voted with the king and he rewarded them with a lavish wedding that lasted an entire month; partying in every street, rivers of Bhujerban Madhu flowed for the people. Rabanastre did not sleep that month, but like every party, there is a hangover. With the treasury depleted and the population ill from drink, Dalmasca was on the verge of bankruptcy. Moreover, the debt still lingered to this day.
"It is rumoured," an elderly woman spoke up, "That the Judge Magister is the brother to the Kingslayer, What do you say to that?" her steely grey eyes glaring at the Queen as though to challenge her.
"Then I would advise you stop listening to hearsay and focus on the facts Councillor," Ashe responded articulately, "gossip only distorts the facts as I'm sure you are aware. If it were not for gossip, I would not have 'died by my own hand'."
The old woman grunted with displeasure, "Gossip, as you call it, has a way of causing trouble, whether it is true or not. Keep that in mind when you announce your betrothal to the people."
"You jump the gun, Councillor, for it has not been agreed on yet, your fears may be nothing," Ashe said almost sarcastically, for she knew in her heart, everything would be perfect.