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The Folly of Basch fon Rosenburg

(I)

Somewhere over Dalmasca aboard the Dreadnought Leviathan...

As Basch stood firm on the ship, he could not believe the luck that he possessed, or rather the lack of it. Why the gods deemed it so entertaining to torture him in such cruel and unusual ways, he did not know. Yet, to his shame, Basch could not deny that he had enjoyed every minute. In his mind, such dalliances and indulgences were supposed to be well and truly beneath him. Even if he was a publicly disgraced traitor, he saw no reason to abandon his knightly principles. And yet no matter how hard Basch had tried to rid himself of such rash desires, he was only a man, and men were weak. What little self control he had gained over the years simply melted away in her presence.

For Penelo was truly astounding. Perhaps not in the conventional sense of the word, yet there was a definite 'something' about the girl that could easily warm even the most frozen of hearts. Hard to define and difficult to quantify, but it was definitely there.

Perhaps it was the way she held herself? Perhaps it was the way she spoke; - even if she held a common inflection- or perhaps the way she looked at people? Perhaps it was a combination of these things and more, but what ere' it maybe, the fact remained that Penelo had a certain grace about her that one could not fail to miss.

Or at least Basch certainly thought so.

It was not the Regal grace of a Princess that came from years of breeding and royal blood, nor was it the other worldly grace that Fran and, undoubtedly, all other Viera seemed to possess. No, Penelo held the kind of grace that came as naturally to her as rays of light from the sun. It was honest. Honest, but gentle. Basch could not think of two words that were ner' so perfect to describe a person as such Penelo.

Even in their first moments together aboard the Leviathan, after the impromptu rescue of Lady Ashe and subsequently Penelo, Basch could tell she was a strong, will-full, but cordial person. And whilst she had been captured by that foul bounty hunter and then taken into the custody of an Heir Arcadia, both experiences had not shaken Penelo. For such a seemingly slight girl, the blonde seemed, even then, to be made of sterner stuff.

Basch knew from the moment she joined the group, that he would become very fond of the girl.

Most surprisingly she did not bare any grudges towards the somewhat morally bankrupt Sky Pirate Balthier nor to Rek's foolhardy younger brother, Vaan. Even if both men were partly responsible for her capture in the first place. Although once safely aboard the Strahl, Basch had, by sheer coincidence of course, overheard Penelo scold her childhood friend for not coming to her aide sooner. And by the gods, what a scolding she had given the poor lad.

For all her calm and gentle ways, the girl certainly had a wicked tongue and a temper to match when push came to shove. As everyone, including Basch, had found out one way or another during their travels. Whilst the Princess's temper could be unpleasant and Fran's reprimands somewhat harsh, being on the receiving end of Penelo's ungodly wrath was something to be feared by friend and foe alike.

The older man did not think it possible for such a delightful creature to harbour such a ferocious streak, but then Penelo was never short of surprises. And Penelo was certainly full of surprises when it came to battle.

Whilst certainly not the strongest, nor the most experienced, what Penelo lacked she certainly made up for in determination, speed and Majgicks. Even if the small blonde truly had the healers touch, those very same hands could cast the most devastating spells. And if she was too drained to cast, then her skills with a small blade or crossbow were not to be taken for granted. Skills that Basch himself had helped develop with some considerable pride. Penelo, the little dancer from Low Town, was a force to be reckoned with. And yet somehow, she managed to hold onto that honest and gentle grace of hers, even in the heat of battle. Truly, it never failed to take the Ex-knights breath from his lungs when he caught sight Penelo mid fight.

Not only that, but Penelo was by far the easiest member of their small band of rag tag crusaders to speak with. So open and friendly, Basch found himself enjoying her company more than anyone else, although the Ex-knight would never admit aloud, especially in such close company.

The petite blonde truly had an amazing ability. She could converse about anything and everything, without ever repeating herself or becoming insufferably boring. She instinctively knew when to talk, how to talk and most importantly when not to talk. Unlike her childhood friend Vaan, whose mouth had the most unfortunate habit of running away with itself at the most inopportune moments. Basch even thought that Penelo's verbal prowess somehow surpassed that of the Lady Ashe, whose constant worries over her seemingly unending helplessness did nothing for the group's morale and -more often than not- bored him to tears.

Not that he would ever voice such an opinion.

But that was not to say the younger girl did not listen, for Penelo was often as quiet, as she was talkative. She was patient, never interrupted and somehow managed to remember the smallest of details of what had been said, even if said details had been mere mentions three weeks prior. It was a marvel indeed, one that Basch had supposed she had learned from her many years running errands for the shopkeeper Migelo. Or perhaps it stemmed from living in and around the rougher parts of The Royal City, having to constantly keep her wits about her.

Penelo could also be amazingly astute. Whenever there was a plan to be hatched or problem to be solved, time and time again she proved her maturity and knowledge of things were far beyond that of anyone her own age.

It was fair to say that by the time they had traversed the Golomore Jungle, Basch had become extremely fond of the young girl. Everything Penelo did somehow inspired such feelings of hope and wonder, from the older man, feelings Basch had not felt in many years. It was no wonder he felt so incredibly drawn to her, such was the power of her simple, honest grace. Though there were times were Basch found his eyes resting upon her for longer periods than considered decent. However, he thought nothing of it, and convinced himself that he was merely concerned for her well being.

For if there was one person-other than his royal charge- that he would happily lay down his life for, it was the young dancer from Rabanastre.

In hindsight, Basch realised that these over protective urges alone ought to have been enough to at least signal to the Ex-Knight that some other much more worrying and troublesome emotions were bubbling under the surface. But then hindsight is, as they say a 'twenty/ twenty art', and when dealing with the future, only the few can claim to ever see it perfectly.

How could he have known what was to transpire after the brutal attack on the temple atop Mt Bur-Omisace?

For after the attack Penelo had fallen into a still silence. It had pained the Ex-knight deeply to see the usually bright and radiant young lady so quiet and sullen. Worryingly so in fact, to the point Basch could no longer bear to stand aside and watch her suffer.

Hence, the Ex-knight had gone to her that cursed night, intent on imparting words of comfort and support. Hoping they would sound neither patronising nor hollow. Though Basch may not have been that skilled in the art of giving consolation as he was with a broad sword, the older soldier was resolute. He would find a way to console the delightful young woman. For Basch knew in his heart, that had the situation been reversed, Penelo would go to any lengths to comfort him. It was, in Basch's opinion, the very least he could do.

Whilst Basch's motives for comforting Penelo had started off purely altruistic and pure in intent, the outcome, however, was undeniably selfish and shockingly reprehensible.

R+R please.