My first multi-chapter story. Plays after FFXII and disregards RW. Introduces an OC and focuses on Basch.
I just think there are no real, exciting romance options for Basch in the game, so I decided to create one.
I'm not a native speaker and thus ask you to excuse any mistakes I have made. Here's hoping you enjoy my little story. Updates soon, I hope.
Also, I don't own FFXII or Basch and sadly I am not making any money writing this.
Rated T for now. Rating might change later. Please read and review!
"Love" his father once told him "...is a curious thing. It is the sweetest agony, a firework in your chest, and the softest pillow you will ever rest your head on all at the same time." A very young Basch shook his head at his father in disbelief. "But love is for girls!" he exclaimed. His father just chuckled in response. "You will understand when you are older. I really hope you will." He ruffled his son's hair and offered him one of his rare smiles.
They had been out at the lake all day long, spending the little time they had together fishing. They did not really expect to catch anything but cherished every moment nonetheless. This day was very extraordinary, for normally the twins would both go with their father. But Noah had been grounded for sneaking out of the house at night to meet with a girl from the village, which had led his brother and father to the discussion at hand.
At the age of fourteen, Noah was very popular with the young ladies in the neighbourhood, while his brother showed no interest whatsoever in the fair sex. The Lady von Ronsenburg was quite relieved at that, it took more than enough effort to keep one pubertal teenage boy from breaking the hearts of every single girl in the village, nevermind two of them!
Sir von Ronsenburg smiled at his younger son. He knew, it would only take a few more months before he, too, would feel the attraction of the other sex. They had left the lake empty-handed and headed back towards home now. His mother's laughter, accompanied by his brother's curses could be heard long before he was able to spot them in the distance. It was a shame, really. He wanted to spend more time with his father, but the day came to an end. And he had not even gotten an answer to his question yet.
"So Noah is in love with Miria?" he asked innocently. His father immediately quirked an eyebrow. "Miria? Isn't that the tailor's daughter?" Basch nodded. "Wait a second, had he not been with the girl from next door?" the man asked confusedly. Basch shrugged. "That was last week, father."
His father sighed as they spotted the source of noise at the porch.
Apparently Noah had been condemned to help his mother with the laundry, and was at this very moment caught in a wet bed sheet twice his size, unable to free himself, while his mother laughed tears.
The two newcomers paused and looked at the scene in front of them. As Basch was struggling not to laugh out loud at the sight of his brother, he could feel his father's hand on his shoulder.
"Love..." he said again "is the greatest power of all. When you find it, there will be no other women for you in this world, no matter how many pretty daughters the tailor has." His son smiled at this and looked at his father, who could not tear his eyes off his wife.
Basch thought back then that he finally understood. The way his father looked at his mother while she laughed, that was love. And he truly hoped that one day, he, too, would know.
It was funny, really. When had he last thought of his father? Or this memory in particular? That must have been before the war... probably even before he became Captain of the Order of Knights. A decade ago, if not more.
But now, as steel clashed with steel, he could not help it. At this moment, when his life was at stake, and a deadly enemy tried to corner him, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, hinting at a smile that, had his mask not hid his face, would only have enraged his opponent further.
He could not help it, really.
Basch von Ronsenburg was not known for being easily distracted. Especially in the heat of battle, he always kept his cool and was never caught by surprise.
However, at this very moment, his feet moved automatically and his arms swung his blade on autopilot, blocking every incoming attack, but not doing any damage. Had his brother been alive, he would doubtlessly have laughed at him. Years of hard training, of war, of leading armies... and all it took for him to lose focus was a pretty face.
Of course, many men were distracted by a pretty face... but the fact that the lady attached to this face was currently trying to kill him should have rang the alarm bell.
It was odd, really.
Rarely was he out and about at this time. Especially here, on the westwing of the palace. The place was lively in daytime, but at night nobody except for the guards had any business outside of the building. The gates led to the military wing of the palace where the Judges' quarters, the armoury and the barracks for the higher ranking military officials could be found. Judge Magister Gabranth had just returned from the aerodrome after escorting a few personal guests of the emperor, two young orphans from Dalmasca, to their airship. It was almost midnight by the time he had returned to the palace and he was tired. It had been a long day, and the armour was heavy. How his brother had handled that thing day after day was a mystery to him. However, his senses were alert and his eyes were open. Yet he had almost missed the shadow climbing out of a fourth floor palace window at his return.
Now, a daring climb and a few threatening shouts later, he found himself blade to blade with a female thief who feared for her life.
At first he could not make out her features, but after confronting her with his blade, her hood fell back and revealed a young, very angry and terrified face.
She was no beauty by normal standards. Her skin was a little bit darker than was fashionable, her eyes were brown whereas the average Archadean beauty would have had blue eyes, and her hair reminded him of the emperor himself.
To him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
And while her blade clashed against his, he could not remove his eyes from her face. And while she tried to kill him for interrupting her nightly prowl, he just danced and evaded her, never attacking back. He never even truly realized what he was doing as they slowly moved from one of the back passages behind the palace to a bridge just in front of one of the gates, leading to the outer barracks and training grounds.
She was no trained fighter, but fought like a cornered animal. Had she actually known what she was doing with that blade of hers, Basch would have made an easy target in his current state. However, luckily she had never received formal training, so their dance continued until the first palace guards arrived at the scene, attracted by the noise and shouts.
As soon as they pointed their guns at the thief and told her to drop her blade, Basch's mind was ripped back into reality. He could read the panic in her eyes as she took a split second to make a decision. Surrender, or risk a very deep jump into possibly shallow water. Before he could even say a word, beg her not to do anything stupid, she had dropped her weapon and jumped.
And all he could do was watch her shape disappear into darkness.